Illness isn't the only thing that spoils the appetite.

There are some moments in life, some feelings; one can only point to them and pass by.

However much you knock at nature's door, she will never answer you in comprehensible words.

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.

As for work, without it, without painstaking work, any writer or artist definitely remains a dilettante; there's no point in waiting for so-called blissful moments, for inspiration; if it comes, so much the better--but you keep working anyway.

I only know that I feel tired, antiquated; I feel as though I had been living a long, long time.

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