Knowledge subverts love: in proportion as we penetrate our secrets, we come to loathe our kind, precisely because they resemble us.

Tolerance - the function of an extinguished ardor - tolerance cannot seduce the young.

We have lost, being born, as much as we shall lose dying: Everything!

Between the demand to be clear,and the temptation to be obscure, impossible to decide which deserves more respect.

Whenever I happen to be in a city of any size, I marvel that riots do not break out everyday: Massacres, unspeakable carnage, a doomsday chaos. How can so many human beings coexist in a space so confined without hating each other to death?

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

The aphorism is cultivated only by those who have known fear in the midst of words, that fear of collapsing with all the words.