When does one ever know a human being? Perhaps only after one has realized the impossibility of knowledge and renounced the desire for it and finally ceased to feel even the need of it. But then what one achieves is no longer knowledge, it is simply a kind of co-existence; and this too is one of the guises of love.

There is nothing like early promiscuous sex for dispelling life's bright mysterious expectations.

Our destiny can be examined, but it cannot be justified or totally explained. We are simply here.

The bicycle is the most civilized conveyance known to man. Other forms of transport grow daily more nightmarish. Only the bicycle remains pure in heart.

Marriage isn't a tram. It doesn't have to get anywhere.

Our actions are like ships which we may watch set out to sea, and not know when or with what cargo they will return to port.

Starting a novel is opening a door on a misty landscape; you can still see very little but you can smell the earth and feel the wind blowing.