This thought strengthened in me my belief that all men, without exception, deserve to be pitied, if only because they are alive.

An uncertain evil causes anxiety because, at the bottom of one's heart, one goes on hoping till the last moment that it may not be true; a certain evil, on the other hand, instills, for a time, a kind of dreary tranquillity.

I like to compare my method with that of painters centuries ago, proceeding from layer to layer.

...my boredom might be described as a malady affecting external objects and consisting of a withering process; an almost instantaneous loss of vitality--just as though one saw a flower change in a few seconds from a bud to decay and dust.

The less one notices happiness, the greater it is.

Every true writer is like a bird; he repeats the same song, the same theme, all his life. For me, this theme as always been revolt.

It is what we are forced to do that forms our character, not what we do of our own free will.