We [writers] must know that we can never escape the common misery and that our only justification, if indeed there is a justification, is to speak up, insofar as we can, for those who cannot do so.

Beware of those who say: "I know this too well to be able to express it." For if they cannot do so, this is because they don't know it or because out of laziness they stopped at the outer crust.

When love ceases to be tragic it is something else and the individual again throws himself in search of tragedy.

But, you know, I feel more fellowship with the defeated than with saints. Heroism and sanctity don't really appeal to me, I imagine. What interests me is being a man.

Men cry because things are not what they ought to be.

Fiction is the lie through which we tell the truth.

They knew now that if there is one thing one can always yearn for, and sometimes attain, it is human love.