After the writer's death, reading his journal is like receiving a long letter.
Love is mainly an affair of short spasms. If these spasms disappoint us, love dies. It is very seldom that it weathers the experience and becomes friendship.
It is not I who become addicted, it is my body.
You've never seen death? Look in the mirror every day and you will see it like bees working in a glass hive.
One is either judge or accused. The judge sits, the accused stands. Live on your feet.
And now I have to confess the unpardonable and the scandalous. I am a happy man. And I am going to tell you the secret of my happiness. It is quite simple. I love mankind. I love love. I hate hate. I try to understand and accept.