To humiliate and be humiliated, I think, is a crucial element in our whole social structure. It's not only the artist I'm sorry for. It's just that I know exactly where he feels most humiliated.

One of ennui's most terribel components is the overwhelming feeling of ennui that comes over you whenever you try to explain it.

Only someone who is well prepared has the opportunity to improvise.

When you die, you are extinguished. From being you will be transformed to non-being. A god does not necessarily dwell among our capricious atoms.

Either I did away with that fear through writing, or in the course of writing, I discovered it was no longer so intrusive or threating. The bottom line is, it's gone.

Here, in my solitude, I have the feeling that I contain too much humanity.

The older I become, the more I think about my mother.