Believe me, for certain men at least, not taking what one doesn't desire is the hardest thing in the world.
Betrayal answers betrayal, the mask of love is answered by the disappearance of love.
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?
Only it takes time to be happy. A lot of time. Happiness, too, is a long patience.
And it was like knocking four quick times on the door of unhappiness.
Art and revolt will die only with the last man.