"I had a dream about you. At first you were a mannequin, and I was a fashion designer. Then, inexplicably, we switched roles and I became the mannequin. But instead of putting clothes on me, you laughed at my nakedness, and you sold me to the owner of a sex shop."

"I write to prove that we lived. I write both to remember and to let go. I write because I can't stop, not until this horrible story of ours is over and we're safe at home."

"Come on, this is a real adventure I have here, screamed Mikolay again, this time more impatiently.I think someone is singing inside the wardrobe. Can you hear that?"

"If Broadway was a river running from the top of Manhattan down to the Battery, undulating with traffic and commerce and lights, then the east-west streets were eddies where, leaf-like, one could turn slow circles from the beginning to the ever shall be, world without end."

"I shuffle along, letting the current pull me, and I have the sense that I am like a rat caught in a maze of tunnels, moving endlessly toward some promise of...Of what? Light? Life? Cheese?"

"I get what you're saying, but my hanging with the ladies is mostly for publicity when I'm on tour. I don't sleep with that many girls. Well, not all of them. Okay, I'm trying to behave myself. It's not easy being famous!"

"For if you try to forget yourself, force your heart and thoughts to become indifferent to the sight before you and take share of that entity which seems like one of the courses of the meal."

"People and things would continue to exist in a world where I did not, and no one would ever think of me. And, if that was the case, then what was the point of existing in the first place?"