“We are adhering to life now with our last muscle - the heart.”

“We are but skin about a wind, with muscles clenched against mortality.”

“You beat the liver out of a goose to get a pâté; you pound the muscles of a man's cardia to get a philosopher.”

“We wake from our doings in a deep sweat for that they happened in a house without an address, in a street in no town, citizened with people with no names with which to deny them. Their very lack of identity makes them ourselves. For by a street number, by a house, by a name, we cease to accuse ourselves. Sleep demands of us a guilty immunity. There is not one of us who, given an eternal incognito, a thumbprint nowhere set against our souls, would not commit rape, murder and all abominations.”

“Oh," he cried. "A broken heart have you! I have falling arches, flying dandruff, a floating kidney, shattered nerves and a broken heart!”

“Our bones ache only while the flesh is on them.”

“I tell you, Madame, if one gave birth to a heart on a plate, it would say “Love” and twitch like the lopped leg of a frog.”