He was so terrible that he was no longer terrible, only dehumanized.

Every author ought to write every book as if he were going to be beheaded the day he finished it.

Actually that’s my secret — I can’t even talk about you to anybody because I don’t want any more people to know how wonderful you are.

No one should live beyond 30.

There was even a recurrent idea in America about an education that would leave out history and the past, that should be a sort of equipment for aerial adventure, weighed down by none of the stowaways of inheritance or tradition.

They had never been closer in their month of love, nor communicated more profoundly one with another, than when she brushed silent lips against his coat's shoulder or when he touched the end of her fingers, gently, as though she were asleep.

All that kept her from breaking was that it was not an image of strength that was leaving her; she would be just as strong without him.