Today I begin to understand what love must be, if it exists... When we are parted, we each feel the lack of the other half of ourselves. We are incomplete like a book in two volumes of which the first has been lost. That is what I imagine love to be: incompleteness in absence.

The facts: nothing matters but the facts: worship of the facts leads to everything, to happiness first of all and then to wealth.

Surely nothing has to listen to so many stupid remarks as a painting in a museum.

Statistics is the first of the inexact sciences.

If there is a God, atheism must seem to Him as less of an insult than religion.

I feel sure that coups d'état would go much better if there were seats, boxes, and stalls so that one could see what was happening and not miss anything.

Today I begin to understand what love must be, if it exists... When we are parted, we each feel the lack of the other half of ourselves. We are incomplete like a book in two volumes of which the first has been lost. That is what I imagine love to be: incompleteness in absence.