I do not like to "interest" the public with myself.
Maybe happiness too is a metaphor invented on a day of boredom
The public wants work which flatters its illusions.
The deplorable mania of doubt exhausts me. I doubt about everything, even my doubts.
Through small apertures we glimpse abysses whose sombre depths turn us faint. And yet over the whole there hovers an extraordinary tenderness.
For some men, the stronger their desire, the more difficult it is for them to act.