I kept thinking how marvellous it would be if I could somehow tear my heart, which felt so heavy, out of my chest.

Nothing better forges a bond of love, friendship or respect than common hatred toward something.

A litterateur is not a confectioner, not a dealer in cosmetics, not an entertainer. . . . He is just like an ordinary reporter. What would you say if a newspaper reporter, because of his fastidiousness or from a wish to give pleasure to his readers, were to describe only honest mayors, high-minded ladies, and virtuous railroad contractors.

I don't like being successful; the subjects which sit in my head are annoyed and jealous of what has already been written.

The world perishes not from bandits and fires, but from hatred, hostility, and all these petty squabbles.

Of course politics is an interesting and engrossing thing. It offers no immutable laws, nearly always prevaricates, but as far asblather and sharpening the mind go, it provides inexhaustible material.

Love, respect, and friendship do unite a people as well as a common hatred does.