My self-absorption warms me; yours boils me.
Arrogance frowns; pride smiles.
Snarls and sobs show that a love affair is getting serious.
Matter-of-fact descriptions make the improbable seem real.
Ladies and gentlemen are supposed to be looked after by others, like children and pets.
Energy falls just short of being joy.
Ironic and jittery, we are puzzled by the old heroes with their fighting, boasting, and cocksure lovemaking.
The hero used to be the one in white. Now he is harder to spot.
Heroes are born to be troublemakers.
Good deal: justice for you, mercy for me.
Opportunity often goes begging. Luck, never.
A moratorium on opportunities, please. I need to recover from the last one.
An imprudent enemy is less dangerous than an imprudent friend.
Jokes are unanswerable objections.
We may eat dinner together, but everyone puts the food in his own mouth.
In a strange city, I connect through food and fantasy.
I may forget my dignity, but you may not.
No dignity without distance.
Violence stops thought. Hence its popularity as a pain-killer.
I gulp down my pleasures, chew over my miseries.
I pursue pleasure, but stingily, suspiciously.
Nothing goes sour more easily than the life of pleasure.
People often imagine that being hard to please confers a certain superiority.
Pain narrows consciousness; pleasure blurs it.
If I could do my life over, I would try to cleanse at least my pleasures of self-pity.
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