What did it matter if he existed for two or for twenty years? Happiness was the fact that he had existed.

A fate is not a punishment.

God put self-pity by the side of despair like the cure by the side of the disease.

I felt that I had been happy and that I was happy again. For everything to be consummated, for me to feel less alone, I had only to wish that there be a large crowd of spectators the day of my execution and that they greet me with cries of hate.

In Holland, everyone is an expert in painting and in tulips.

Since we're all going to die, it's obvious that when and how don't matter.

A work of art is a confession.