There comes a day when, for someone who has persecuted us, we feel only indifference, a weariness at his stupidity. Then we forgive him.

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

At great periods you have always felt, deep within you, the temptation to commit suicide. You gave yourself to it, breached your own defenses. You were a child. The idea of suicide was a protest against life; by dying, you would escape this longing for death.

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

You've got to understand life, understand it when you're young.

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.

Perfect behaviour is born of complete indifference.