I know that no reader ever asks a question. A writer must force his favors upon his readers.

The Kammerlicht: Explanations of the Impressions Left Upon Various and Sundry Natures by Dreams as Interpreted According to Tribe, and of the Numbers to be Staked in Lotteries in Conformity with the Meanings of Said...

Men are jealous of every woman, even when they don’t have the slightest interest in her themselves.

I’ve supped on potatoes and groats and am waiting to be sick. How about you?I supped like the Lord in Heaven.’and what does the Lord in Heaven have for supper?’Nothing.

At least when one speaks of oneself one is passionate, well-informed and specific.

The face of the dead man was concealed, of course, our customs not being those of the south, where corpses are carried to the grave in open coffins, that they might – one last time...

No one has the right to enter literature without fresh new ideas. We’ve got too many dexterous drudges as it is.