“It's wearying, like Caliban buttonholing you in hell and telling you the struggle he's having getting along with himself.”

“It's wearying, like Caliban buttonholing you in hell and telling you the struggle he's having getting along with himself.”

“It's wearying, like Caliban buttonholing you in hell and telling you the struggle he's having getting along with himself.”

“You Englishmen,’ said Herr Wurter. ‘You are all the same. Wherever you are you behave as if you were at home and your word was law.”

“A quick butchers shows up Old Bill three-handed, also a particularly nasty female grass–-and if looks were acid baths the two she collects from us would reduce her to gristle quicker than Mrs. Durand-Deacon.”

“...perhaps, when it got utterly dark, the peace of the darkness would become the same as light so that my last experience would become as mysterious and musical as my first, so that in my last darkness there might not be the same need of understanding anything so far away as the world anymore.”

“Anyone who conceives of writing as an agreeable stroll towards a middle-class life-style will never write anything but crap.”

“I studied him and realized that madness is the last defence of the mind when it can't hope to reconcile itself with events”