Life is a message scribbled in the dark.

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A certain man once lost a diamond cuff-link in the wide blue sea, and twenty years later, on the exact day, a Friday apparently, he was eating a large fish - but there was no diamond inside. That’s what I like about coincidence.

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The only real number is one, the rest are mere repetition

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The good, the admirable reader identifies himself not with the boy or the girl in the book, but with the mind that conceived and composed that book.

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The future is but the obsolete in reverse.

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Curiosity is insubordination in its purest form.

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And the rest is rust and stardust.

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Nostalgia in reverse, the longing for yet another strange land, grew especially strong in spring.

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I am sufficiently proud of my knowing something to be modest about my not knowing all.

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Words without experience are meaningless.

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