I have dreamed much and have done very little.

One can be the master of what one does, but never of what one feels.

But some day sooner or later our passion would have cooled - inevitably - it's the way with everything human.

The idea of bringing someone into the world fills me with horror. I would curse myself if I were a father. A son of mine! Oh no, no, no! May my entire flesh perish and may I transmit to no one the aggravations and the disgrace of existence.

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

I spent the morning putting in a comma and the afternoon removing it.

A superhuman will is needed in order to write, and I am only a man.