The horrible, oppressive, vaporous, pigeon blue-gray sky. - Patrick Süskind

He decided in favor of life out of sheer spite and malice.

He disgusted them the way a fat spider that you can't bring yourself to crush with your own hand disgusts you.

No longer distracted by anything external, he basked in his own existence and found it splendid. He lay in his stony crypt like his own corpse, hardly breathing, his heart hardly beating—and yet lived as intensively and dissolutely as ever a rake had lived in the world outside.