Christ," he remarked, puzzled, "this is a dingy way to die. — Malcolm Lowry

"Though tragedy was in the process of becoming unreal and meaningless it seemed one was still permitted to remember the days when an individual life held some value and was not a mere misprint in a communiqué."

"What beauty can compare to that of a cantina in the early morning?"

"The howling pariah dogs, the cocks that herald dawn all night, the drumming, the moaning that will be found later white plumage huddled on telegraph wires in back gardens or fowl roosting in apple trees, the eternal sorrow that never sleeps of great Mexico."

"But my lord, Yvonne, surely you know by this time I can’t get drunk however much I drink."

"How shall the murdered man convince his assassin he will not haunt him."

"And this is how I sometimes think of myself, as a great explorer who has discovered some extraordinary land from which he can never return to give his knowledge to the world: but the name of this land is hell."