There's something tragic in the fate of almost every person--it's just that the tragic is often concealed from a person by the banal surface of life.... A woman will complain of indigestion and not even know that what she means is that her whole life has been shattered.

Circumstances define us; they force us onto one road or another, and then they punish us for it.

I share no man's opinions; I have my own.

I walked in the meadows of green grieving for my life.

It was only the vulgarly mediocre that repelled her.

Every man's happiness is built on the unhappi-ness of another.

It's all romanticism, nonsense, rottenness, art.