I have seen romanticism outlast the realistic. I have seen men forget the beautiful women they have possessed, forget the prostitutes, and remember the first woman they idolized, the woman they could never have. The woman who aroused them romantically holds them.

There is no denying that we are suffering from a collective neurosis and the novel which does not face this is not a novel of our time.

The artist is the only one who knows that the world is a subjective creation, that there is a choice to be made, a selection of elements.

A war regarded as inevitable or even probable, and therefore much prepared for, has a very good chance of eventually being fought.

He does not need opium. He has the gift of reverie.

When you make a world tolerable for yourself, you make a world tolerable for others.

My trunk, valises and my mind are overpacked.