My drawing was not a picture of a hat. It was a picture of a boa constrictor digesting an elephant.
He fell as gently as a tree falls. There was not even any sound.
The airplane has unveiled for us the true face of the earth.
To be a man is, precisely, to be responsible.
What was my body to me? A kind of flunkey in my service. Let but my anger wax hot, my love grow exalted, my hatred collect in me, and that boasted solidarity between me and my body was gone.
Trying to be witty leads to lying, more or less.