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The grain of dust that was man no longer counted today as a creature of volition.
new face in this Godforsaken monotony.
never had I seen the back-seam of his swallow-tails arched so tautly.
to begin pumping my companion about this swan in our duck-pond.
She had bare arms, soft and smooth; they must be like peeled peaches to the touch.
someone with crippled, fettered legs, someone whom it hurts to see you flash past like a bird.
These extravagant emotions will be too much for you, simpleton that you are,
It is never until one realizes that one means something to others that one feels there is any point or purpose in one’s own existence.
any form of constraint fetters the true forces of the spirit and that the real measure of a man is only revealed when he feels entirely at his ease.
the untrammelled enjoyment of the society of young girls.
lolling about in that familiar state of café inertia in which one is afraid to make a move;
peppering their throats to a frazzle with their wretched goulasch!
anyone who identifies himself with the fate of another is robbed to some extent of his own freedom.
a full moon of a face, pitted with little holes and disfigured with pimples, a bottle nose, a nebulous chin, reddish cheeks
Day after day the poor, quiet creature had to feed, brush and take out three loathsome, smelly terriers, play the piano to the old fool, read aloud to her, and let herself be bullied in the most vile manner for no reason at all.
You take on yourself a confounded amount of responsibility when you make a fool of another person with your pity.
At the start we should see considerable progress — after all, women react amazingly to emotions, to illusions.
For the first time in my life I began to realize that it is not evil and brutality, but nearly always weakness, that is to blame for the worst things that happen in this world.
“Good people” of that kind take pity on every whipped cur and every mangy cat —
Never in my life had I received such a wild, despairing, thirsty kiss as the one given me by this crippled girl.
In my youth and comparative inexperience I had always regarded the yearning and pangs of love as the worst torture that could afflict the human heart.
You haven’t sufficient strength to resist this pulling and tugging, it will tear you to pieces.
the same thoughts over and over again, and when you awake in the morning you feel as though you have been drained and sucked dry by vampires. What a solace then is reveille, what a solace your duties, that far milder form of bondage!
