To dine, drink champagne, raise a racket and make speeches about the people's consciousness, the people's conscience, freedom andso forth while servants in tails are scurrying around your table, just like serfs, and out in the severe cold on the street await coachmen--this is the same as lying to the holy spirit.

Then I feel so happy and at the same time so sad, it's unimaginable.

There is nothing more awful, insulting, and depressing than banality.

Is it our job to judge? The gendarme, policemen and bureaucrats have been especially prepared by fate for that job. Our job is towrite, and only to write.

A writer is not a confectioner, a cosmetic dealer, or an entertainer.

The thirst for powerful sensations takes the upper hand both over fear and over compassion for the grief of others.

Only one who loves can remember so well.