Of all the icy blasts that blow on love, a request for money is the most chilling.

Once one has kissed a cadaver's forehead, there always remains something of it on the lips, an infinite bitterness, an aftertasteof nothingness that nothing can erase.

Style is as much under the words as in the words. It is as much the soul as it is the flesh of a work.

Doubt … is an illness that comes from knowledge and leads to madness.

You forget everything. The hours slip by. You travel in your chair through centuries you seem seem to see before you, your thoughts are caught up in the story, dallying with the details or following the course of the plot, you enter into characters, so that it seems as if it were your own heart beating beneath their costumes.

Writing is a dog's life, but the only life worth living.

One mustn't always believe that feeling is everything. In the arts, it is nothing without form.