We are torn between the craving to know and the despair of having known.

Usually I avoided college students, whom I considered brutal, wrapped up in themselves, particularly in their youth, in which they found material for drama or an excuse for their own boredom. I did not care for young people.

I feel sorry for men. They have more problems than women, because they now have to compete with women.

The one thing I regret is that I will never have time to read all the books I want to read.

What you call types of mind are only mental ages.

A Strange melancholy pervades me to which I hesitate to give the grave and beautiful name of sorrow. The idea of sorrow has always appealed to me but now I am almost ashamed of it's complete egoism. I have known boredom, regret, and occasionally remorse, but never sorrow. Today it envelops me like a silken web, enervating and soft, and sets me apart from everybody else.

I like men to behave like men. I like them strong and childish.