"Non. Je ne manque nulle part, je ne laisse pas de vide. Les métros sont bondés, les restaurants comblés, les têtes bourrées à craquer de petits soucis. J'ai glissé hors du monde et il est resté plein. Comme un oeuf. Il faut croire que je n'étais pas indispensable. J'aurais voulu être indispensable. À quelque chose ou à quelqu'un. À propos, je t'aimais. Je te le dis à présent parce que ça n'a plus d'importance."

Jean-Paul Sartre, Les Mots

"The King turned pale, and shut his note-book hastily. "Consider your verdict," he said to the jury, in a low trembling voice.

"There's more evidence to come yet, please your Majesty," said the White Rabbit, jumping up in a great hurry: "this paper has just been picked up."

"What's in it?" said the Queen.

"I haven't opened it yet," said the White Rabbit; "but it seems to be a letter, written by the prisoner to-to somebody."

"It must have been that," said the King, "unless it was written to nobody, which isn't usual, you know."

"Who is it directed to?" said one of the jurymen.

"It isn't directed at all," said the White Rabbit: "in fact, there's nothing written on the outside." He unfolded the paper as he spoke, and added "It isn't a letter, after all: it's a set of verses."

"Are they in the prisoner handwriting?" asked another of the jurymen.

"No, they're not," said the White Rabbit, "and that's the queerest thing about it." (The jury all looked puzzled.)

"He must have imitated somebody else's hand," said the King. (The jury all brightened again.)

"Please, your Majesty," said the Knave, "I didn't write it, and they can't prove that I did: there's no name signed at the end."

"If you didn't sign it," said the King, "that only makes the matter worse. You must have meant some mischief, or else you would have signed your name like an honest man."

There was a general clapping of hands at this: it was the first really clever thing the King had said that day.

"That proves his guilt, of course," said the Queen, "so, off with--"

"It doesn't prove anything of the sort!" said Alice. "Why, you don't even know what they're about!"

"Read them," said the King.

The White Rabbit put on his spectacles. "Where shall I begin, please your Majesty?" he asked.

"Begin at the beginning," the King said, very gravely, "and go on till you come to the end: then stop.""

Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, Lewis Caroll

"Alice couldn't help laughing, as she said "I don't want you to hire me-and i don't care for jam."

"It's very good jam," said the Queen.

"Well, I don't want any today, at any rate."

"You couldn't have it if you did want it," the Queen said. "The rule is, jam tomorrow and jam yesterday-but never jam today."

"It must come sometimes to 'jam today'," Alice objected.

"No, it can't," said the Queen. "It's jam every other day: today isn't any other day, you know."

"I don't understand you," said Alice. "It's dreadfully confusing!"

"That's the effect of living backwards," the Queen said kindly: "it always makes one a little giddy at first-"

"Living backwards!" Alice repeated in great astonishment. "I never heard of such a thing!"

"-but there's one great advantage in it, that one's memory works both ways."

"I'm sure mine nay works one way," Alice remarked. "I can't remember things before they happen."

"It's a poor sort of memory that only works backwards."
[...]"

Through the Looking-Glass, Lewis Caroll

" - Par tous les diables ! s'exclama-t-il. Ne prononcez pas son nom !
- Quoi, Hué ?
- Chuttttt ! Sacrebleu !
- Mais c'est écrit sur votre papier là !
- Mille millions de mille quatre cent quatre-vingt-quinze sabords ! Nom d'un borgne aveugle !
L'Asiatique s'était transformé en un juke-box à jurons. Il lança de furtifs regards autour de lui comme un dealer en pleine transaction.
- Eh bien, lisez dans votre tête, continua-t-il une fois rassuré, mais il ne faut jamais prononcer le nom du Maître 90. Seigneur des sept mers et gardien du trésor des flibustiers.
- Le Maître 90 ! C'est votre quatre-vingt-dixième maître ?
- Non, c'est sa taille. I Maître 90."

p. 67

"Postulat 1
Une fois lâchée, la tartine tombe toujours.

Postulat 2
La tartine tombe presque toujours du côté de la confiture. Et comme la culture, c'est comme la confiture, moins on en a, plus on l'étale, alors il n'est pas faux de dire que la tartine tombe presque toujours du côté de la culture (même si cela ne veut rien dire).

Postulat 3
Si, exceptionnellement, la tartine tombe du côté non beurré, c'est qu'on n'a pas beurré le bon côté."

p.169

Romain Puértolas, La petite fille qui avait avalé un nuage grand comme la tour Eiffel.
Un livre qui donne la bonne humeur, léger à lire, fait pour sourire.