It is not that the child lives in a world of imagination, but that the child within us survives and starts into life only at rare moments of recollection, which makes us believe, and it is not true, that, as children, we were imaginative?

Reality is a prison, where one vegetates and always will. All the rest - thought, action - is just a pastime, mental or physical. What counts then, is to come to grips with reality. The rest can go.

We can all do good deeds, but very few of us can think good thoughts.

Literature is a defense against the attacks of life. It says to life: You can't deceive me. I know your habits, foresee and enjoy watching all your reactions, and steal your secret by involving you in cunning obstructions that halt your normal flow.

Writing is a fine thing, because it combines the two pleasures of talking to yourself and talking to a crowd.

No one ever lacks a good reason for suicide.

The only way to escape the abyss is to look at it, gauge it, sound it out and descend into it.