Κάθε λέξη είναι ένας άχρηστος λεκές στη σιωπή και στο τίποτα.

“It was a strange room, the door hanging off its hinges, and yet a telephone. Bu…”

“Perhaps my best years are gone. When there was a chance of happiness. But I wou…”

“And yet sometimes it seems to me I am there, among the incriminated scenes, tot…”

“I stopped being half-witted and became sly whenever I took the trouble.”