If you look at life one way, there is always cause for alarm.

Art, at any rate in a novel, must be indissolubly linked with craft.

Not only is there no question of solitude, but in the long run we may not choose our company.

Meetings that do not come off keep a character of their own. They stay as they were projected.

The wish to lead out one's lover must be a tribal feeling; the wish to be seen as loved is part of one's self-respect.

Pity the selfishness of lovers: it is brief, a forlorn hope; it is impossible.

Silences can be as different as sounds.