Tropic of Cancer
[Boris] eats in the restaurant out of consideration for me. He says it hurts to eat a big meal and have me watch him. (1.14)
With that bottle between my legs and the sun splashing through the window I experience once again the splendor of those miserable days when I first arrived in Paris, a bewildered, poverty-stricken individual who haunted the streets like a ghost at a banquet (1.49).
What need have I for money? I am a writing machine. (1.14)