"The world is profoundly pleasant." He lay back on the bed, upon his arms.
"I wonder if it's really nice to be as vague as you are ?" asked Hirst, looking at him.

"It's the lack of continuity--that's what's so odd bout you," he went on.

"At the age of twenty-seven, which is nearly thirty, you seem to have drawn no conclusions.

A party of old women excites you still as though you were three." Hewet contemplated the angular young man who was neatly brushing the rims of his toe-nails into the fire-place in silence for a moment.
"I respect you, Hirst," he remarked.
"I envy you--some things," said Hirst.

"One: your capacity for not thinking; two: people like you better than they like me.