In 'real life' everything is diluted; in the novel everything is condensed.

without fiction, either life would be insufficient or the winds from the north would blow too cold.

Plot is the knowing of destination.

Every love has a poetic relevance of its own; each love brings to light only what to it is relevant. Outside lies the junk-yard of what does not matter.

Almost everybody wore a curious limpidity of expression, like newborn babies or souls just after death. Dazed but curiously dignified.... after a criseof hysterical revulsion and tiredness, I passed beyondand became entered by a rather sublime feeling.

Language is a mixture of statement and evocation.

No object is mysterious. The mystery is your eye.