A civilization is destroyed only when its gods are destroyed.

The literary man? An indiscreet man, who devaluates his miseries, divulges them, tells them like so many beads: immodesty-the sideshow of second thoughts-is his rule; he offers himself.

One doesn't live in a country, one lives in a language.

We would not be interested in human beings if we did not have the hope of someday meeting someone worse off than ourselves.

I do not forgive myself for being born. It is as if creeping into this world, I had profaned a mystery, betrayed some momentous pledge, committed a fault of nameless gravity.

Every thought derives from a thwarted sensation.

The multiplication of our kind borders on the obscene; the duty to love them, on the preposterous.