A lot of people, especially this one psychoanalyst guy they have here, keeps asking me if I’m going to apply myself when I go back to school next September. It’s such a stupid question, in my opinion. I mean how do you know what you’re going to do till you do it? The answer is, you don’t. I think I am, but how do I know? I swear it’s a stupid question
A memorable means of elucidating the difference between thinking something and knowing something.
After all, when one thinks about it, it is not such a foolish thing to indulge in – particularly if it is the case that in bantering lies the key to human warmth.
The use of the dash here illustrates the interruption in thought.
He looked up again at the portrait of Big Brother. The colossus that bestrode the world!
Although bestride can mean to straddle, it is also an elegant way of capturing the domination of something.
The pale-gilt image of the triumphant Prime Minister rushed towards the customer in a gleaming slippage.
A pretty means of conveying an image.
On the pleasant shore of the French Riviera, about half way between Marseilles and the Italian border, stands a large, proud, rose-colored hotel.
A beautiful way of describing a place in relation to its location. Mind the differences in spelling between British and American English.
 J.D. Stalinger, The Catcher in the Rye, (London: Penguin Classics) 1994 p.192
 Kazuo Ishiguro, The Remains of the Day, (London: Faber & Faber) 2005 p.258
 George Orwell, Nineteen Eighty-Four, (London: Penguin Classics) 2000 p.342
 Alan Hollinghurst, The Line of Beauty, (London: Picador) 2004 p.3
 F. Scott Fitzgerald, Tender is the Night, (London: Penguin Classics) 2000 p.11