To what a degree the same past can leave different marks - and especially admit of different interpretations.

The bad novelist constructs his characters; he directs them and makes them speak. The true novelist listens to them and watches them act; he hears their voices even before he knows them.

What I dislike least in my former self are the moments of prayer.

The nationalist has a broad hatred and a narrow love.

The truth is that as soon as we are no longer obliged to earn our living, we no longer know what to do with our life and recklessly squander it.

A desire for truth is by no means a need for certitude and it would be unwise to confuse one with the other.

Woe to these people who have no appetite for the very dish that their age serves up.