The paradox of romantic love -- that what one possesses, one can no longer desire -- was at work.

The craft of the novelist does lie first of all in story-telling.

Good-byes breed a sort of distaste for whomever you say good-bye to; this hurts, you feel, this must not happen again.

When one is a child, the disposition of objects, tables and chairs and doors, seems part of the natural order: a house-move lets in chaos - as it does for a dog.

Jealousy is no more than feeling alone against smiling enemies.

Proust has pointed out that the predisposition to love creates its own objects; is this not also true of fear?

Characters should on the whole, be under rather than over articulate. What they intend to say should be more evident, more striking (because of its greater inner importance to the plot) than what they arrive at saying.