But he could not renounce his infinite capacity for illusion at the very moment he needed it most... he saw fireflies where there were none.

For you was I born, for you do I have life, for you will I die, for you am I now dying.

Life had already given him sufficient reasons for knowing that no defeat was the final one.

Fame invades your private life. It takes away from the time that you spend with friends, and the time that you can work. It tends to isolate you from the real world.

Curiosity is one of the many masks of love.

In journalism just one fact that is false prejudices the entire work. In contrast, in fiction one single fact that is true gives legitimacy to the entire work. That's the only difference, and it lies in the commitment of the writer. A novelist can do anything he wants so long as he makes people believe in it.

his mysterious resources had awakened in her a curiosity that was difficult to resist, but she had never imagined that curiosity was one of the many masks of love.