“...."the sound of a barrel organ rising from the deepest golden vein of the day; two or three bars of a chorus, played on a distant piano over and over again, melting in the sun on the white paveme...”

“And then as the knives and forks began to clank softly above the white tablecloths, the violins would rise alone, now suddenly mature although tentative and unsure just a short while before; slim a...”

“They were villages forgotten in the depth of time, peopled by creatures chained forever to their tiny destinies.”

“Reality is as thin as paper, and betrays with all its cracks its imitative character.”

“Homicide is not a sin. It is sometimes a necessary violence on resistant and ossified forms of existence which have ceased to be amusing. In the interests of an important and fascinating experiment...”

“After tidying up, Adela would plunge the rooms into semidarkness by drawing down the linen blinds. All colors immediately fell an octave lower, the room filled with shadows, as if it had sunk to th...”

“...the souls of none of them were dead, but only sleeping; now and then they would waken, and these were cruel times.”

“Sleep, where in the waste is the wisdom?”

“If you can't turn off your thoughts, who cares how soft your pillow is?"- David King”