Writing history is like drinking an ocean and pissing a cupful.

I go from exasperation to a state of collapse, then I recover and go from prostration to Fury, so that my average state is one of being annoyed.

Maybe happiness too is a metaphor invented on a day of boredom

After the pain of this disappointment her heart once more stood empty, and the succession of identical days began again.

The denigration of those we love always detaches us from them in some degree. Never touch your idols: the gilding will stick to your fingers.

And so I will take back up my poor life, so plain and so tranquil, where phrases are adventures and the only flowers I gather aremetaphors.

On spinach: I dislike it, and am happy to dislike it because if I liked it I would eat it, and I cannot stand it.