جوانک‌هایی را می‌شناسم که خودشان را با انواع کثافتها مشغول می‌کنند. اما من برای خوشی و شادی، حاضر نیستم کون زندگی را بلیسم. باهاش تعارفی ندارم. گور پدرش کرده.

They died... Have you ever seen a baby elephant lying on its side, with its trunk inert, gazing at you with eyes in which there seem to have taken refuge all those so highly praised human qualities of which humanity is so largely devoid?

Я боялся ехать в Париж из-за пешеходных переходов. Натура водителя такова, что на зебрах больше всего шансов быть задавленным. Место узкое, четко отмеченное, парень за рулем может точно прицелиться.
Плюс зеленый свет, еще один шулер, усыпляет бдительность: переходи! – а ты и попался. Я всегда перехожу на красный.

از صاحب مغازۀ سگ‌فروشی، اجازه خواستم که سگِ کوچولوی خاکستریِ موفرفری‌اش را ناز کنم. سگ را به من داد. سگ را گرفتم، نازش کردم و مثل برق زدم به چاک. اگر چیزی را خوب بلد باشم، همین دویدن است. بدون دویدن، در زندگی هیچ کاری نمی‌شود کرد

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من در بوته زار تنها و بدون خاطره زندگی می کنم و بازگشت به جنگل برای مدت نه ماه، با تصویر دختری چون او در چشم ها، چیز بسیار بدی است. چندان می خراشد و می خراشد تا این حس را القا کند که زندگی را انتخاب نکرده ایم بلکه آن را از دست داده ایم.

Slowly I felt flooded with that agonizing and poignant confusion that surely comes to all aging men experiencing their first adolescent love. I had no great wish to go on living; what was the point of a flawed happiness. According to Bonnard, the hardest moment of all is when the artist longs to keep on but he’s conscience tells him that one brushstroke more will spoil the entire painting. And man has to know when to stop.

Ma io non ci tengo tanto a essere felice, preferisco ancora la vita. La felicità è una bella schifezza e una carogna e bisognerebbe insegnarle a vivere. Non siamo della stessa razza, io e lei, e a me non me ne frega niente.

You’re right. One has to be mad. [...] Do you remember about the prehistoric reptile, the an- cestor of man, the first to emerge from the mud in early Paleozoic times, a milliard years ago, who set out to live in the air and to breathe, even though he had no lungs? [...] Well, he was mad too. Absolutely bats. That’s why he tried. He’s the ancestor of us all, and we shouldn’t forget it. But for him we wouldn’t be here. He was as crazy as they come. We too have got to try. That's what progress is. By trying like him, perhaps we’ll wind up with the necessary organs, the organ of dignity, of decency, or of fraternity.