“A room is, after all, a place where you hide from the wolves. That's all any room is.”

“The musty smell, the bugs, the lonliness, this room, which is part of the street outside-this is all I want from life.”

“After all this, what happened? What happened was that, as soon as I had the slightest chance of a place to hide in, I crept into it and hid. Well, sometimes it's a fine day isn't it? Sometimes the skies are blue. Sometimes the air is light, easy to breathe. And there is always tomorrow...”

“My life, which seems so simple and monotonous, is really a complicated affair of cafés where they like me and cafés where they don't, streets that are friendly, streets that aren't, rooms where I might be happy, rooms where I shall never be, looking-glasses I look nice in, looking-glasses I don't, dresses that will be lucky, dresses that won't, and so on.”

“A room? A nice room? A beautiful room? A beautiful room with bath? Swing high, swing low, swing to and fro...This happened and that happened...And then the days came and I was alone.”

“Quite like old times,' the room says.”

“You can pretend for a long time, but one day it all falls away and you are alone. We are alone in the most beautiful place in the world...”