Come, let’s be calm: no one incapable of restraint was ever a writer.

She was as sated with him as he was tired of her. Emma had rediscovered in adultery all the banality of marriage.

It seems to me that I have always existed and that I possess memories that date back to the Pharaohs.

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

And the more he was irritated by her basic personality, the more he was drawn to her by a harsh, bestial sensuality, illusions of a moment, which ended in hate.

Put all your rage and madness into your work and live as orderly a life as possible.

The art of writing is the art of discovering what you believe.