My stomach has shrunk," he added simply.

"To see things one must suffer.
'Voyager, c'est plus fort que moi'!" Shelton failed to perceive that this was one way of disguising the human animal's natural dislike of work--there was a touch of pathos, a suggestion of God-knows-what-might-have-been, about this fellow.
"I have eaten my illusions," said the young foreigner, smoking a cigarette.

"When you've starved a few times, your eyes are opened.
'Savoir, c'est mon metier; mais remarquez ceci, monsieur': It 's not always the intellectuals who succeed." "When you get a job," said Shelton, "you throw it away, I suppose." "You accuse me of restlessness?
Shall I explain what I think about that?
I'm restless because of ambition; I want to reconquer an independent position.

I put all my soul into my trials, but as soon as I see there's no future for me in that line, I give it up and go elsewhere.

'Je ne veux pas etre rond de cuir,' breaking my back to economise sixpence a day, and save enough after forty years to drag out the remains of an exhausted existence.