In Quoting Others, We Cite Ourselves.

The Evolution From Happiness To Habit Is One Of Death's Best Weapons.

I Have Never Described This To You Before, Not So Much, I Don't Think, From Lack Of Truthfulness As That, Just Naturally, One Is Not Going To Explain To People At Large That From Time To Time One Vomits Up A Small Rabbit.

You're Like A Witness. You're The One Who Goes To The Museum And Looks At The Paintings. I Mean The Paintings Are There And You're In The Museum Too, Near And Far Away At The Same Time. I'm A Painting. Rocamadour Is A Painting. Etienne Is A Painting, This Room Is A Painting. You Think That You're In The Room But You're Not. You're Looking At The Room, You're Not In The Room.

The More A Book Is Like An Opium Pipe, The More The Chinaman Reader Is Satisfied With It And Tends To Discuss The Quality Of The Drug Rather Than Its Lethargic Effects.

Of All Our Feelings The Only One Which Really Doesn't Belong To Us Is Hope. Hope Belongs To Life, It's Life Itself Defending Itself. Etcetera.