If the world were clear, art would not exist.

There is the good and the bad, the great and the low, the just and the unjust. I swear to you that all that will never change.

“To think the way you do,” he said smiling, “you have to be a man who lives either on a tremendous despair, or on a tremendous hope.” “On both, perhaps.”

Human relationships always help us to carry on because they always presuppose a future.

Believe me, for certain men at least, not taking what one doesn't desire is the hardest thing in the world.

Working conditions for me have always been those of the monastic life: solitude and frugality. Except for frugality, they are contrary to my nature, so much so that work is a violence I do to myself.

What, in fact, is a novel but a universe in which action is endowed with form, where final words are pronounced, where people possess one another completely, and where life assumes the aspect of destiny?