Innocence always calls mutely for protection when we would be so much wiser to guard ourselves against it: innocence is like a dumb leper who has lost his bell, wandering the world, meaning no harm.

A ruling passion gives to a shelf of novels the unity of a system.

Reality in our century is not something to be faced.

It is impossible to go through life without trust: that is to be imprisoned in the worst cell of all, oneself.

One has no talent. I have no talent. It's just a question of working, of being willing to put in the time.

The border means more than a customs house, a passport officer, a man with a gun. Over there everything is going to be different; life is never going to be quite the same again after your passport has been stamped.

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.