“Many days later another caravan was passing and a man saw something on top of the highest dune there. And when they went up to see, they found Outka, Mimouna and Aicha; they were still there, lying the same way as when they had gone to sleep. And all three of the glasses,' he held up his own little tea glass, 'were full of sand. That was how they had their tea in the Sahara.”

“How were you able to see at once: a glass and an apple, a statue and a rifle, a woman and a cage? When you started to collect all you saw, you found yourself unable to sketch even a passing image. What was missing was a thread and perhaps more glass so that these would all coalesce in an enchanting image. You then knew that the glass was not a glass, nor the apple and apple, or the statue. . . You had to search for their secrets. Sleeping in the well of your eyes, in the light of the absent mirror, in the ray glistening on the side of your face.”

“Alcohol whipped me. Alcohol and I had many, many marvelous times together. We laughed, we talked, we danced at the party together; then one day I woke up and the band had gone home and I was lying in the broken glass with a shirt full of puke and I said, 'Hey, man, the ball game's up'.”

“There was no sign of Plato, and I was told later that he had gone to live in his Republic, where he was cheerfully submitting to his own Laws. [...] None of the Stoics were present. Rumour had it that they were still clambering up the steep hill of Virtue [...]. As for the Sceptics, it appeared that they were extremely anxious to get there, but still could not quite make up their minds whether or not the island really existed.”

“is there any I could get a glass of water?"[waiter]There is no way... I toss and turn many a night trying to think up some way some how I could get glasses of water to costomers but I keep coming up empty..... Legend has it there was a waiter here many years ago... who had figured out a way to do just that but he is long gone and with him the secret. It had something to do with a glass rack and a faucet but no one has been able to put the pieces together so I must say no there is no way. HOW I WISH THERE WAS A WAY!!!”

“But she saw that his eyes, which were sand-colored like his face, and sandy-lashed, had found another occupation. They were fixed on Conchita Closson, who sat opposite to him; they rested on her unblinkingly, immovably, as if she had been a natural object, a landscape or a cathedral, that one had traveled far to see, and had the right to look at as long as one chose. He's drinking her up like blotting paper. I thought they were better brought up over in England!”