God made food; the devil the cooks.

He wanted to cry quietly but not for himself: for the words, so beautiful and sad, like music.

There's many a true word spoken in jest.

The demand that I make of my reader is that he should devote his whole Life to reading my works.

The object of the artist is the creation of the beautiful. What the beautiful is is another question.

When I heard the word ''stream'' uttered with such a revolting primness, what I think of is urine and not the contemporary novel. And besides, it isn't new, it is far from the dernier cri. Shakespeare used it continually, much too much in my opinion, and there's Tristam Shandy, not to mention the "Agamemnon."

He thought that he was sick in his heart if you could be sick in that place.