The art of living is the art of knowing how to believe lies.

The closing years of life are like the end of a masquerade party, when the masks are dropped.

We never remember days, only moments.

Perfect behavior is born of complete indifference. Perhaps this is why we always love madly someone who treats us with indifference.

Childhood is not only the childhood we really had but also the impressions we formed of it in our adolescence and maturity. That is why childhood seems so long. Probably every period of life is multiplied by our reflections upon the next.

Give me the ready hand rather than the ready tongue.

No one ever lacks a good reason for suicide.