I could never have been a pacifist. To kill a man was surely to grant him an immeasurable benefit. Oh yes, people always, everywhere, loved their enemies. It was their friends they preserved for pain and vacuity.

Politics, war, marriage, crime, adultery. Everything that exists in the world has something to do with money.

There are times when a lover longs to be also a father and a brother: he is jealous of the years he hasn't shared.

...every monologue sooner or later becomes a discussion.

She had lost all our memories for ever, and it was as though by dying she had robbed me of part of myself. I was losing my individuality. It was the first stage of my own death, the memories dropping off like gangrened limbs.

To comfort me is like the wrong memory at the wrong place or time: if one is lonely one prefers discomfort.

I'm tired and I'm sick to death of being without you.