We are all of us resigned to death: it's life we aren't resigned to.

Thought's a luxury. Do you think the peasant sits and thinks of God and Democracy when he gets inside his mud hut at night?

A major character has to come somehow out of the unconscious.

Grief and disappointment are like hate: they make men ugly with self-pity and bitterness. And how selfish they make us too.

For an artist to think in terms of success is like a priest trying to think in terms of success.

Against the beautiful and the clever and the successful, one can wage a pitiless war, but not against the unattractive: then the millstone weighs on the breast.

It's a pity people pick and choose what they learn from the Bible.