A man has only one way of being immortal on earth: he has to forget he is a mortal.
Destiny is simply the relentless logic of each day we live.
Only the mediocre are always at their best.
Their own kind of logic which cries for miracles and, on occasion.
A faithful woman looks to the spring, a good book, perfume, earthquakes, and divine revelation for the experience others find in a lover. They deceive their husbands, so to speak, with the entire world, men excepted.
To make ourselves invisible to creditors or to the envious, and even to our own worries, we can take advantage here on earth of a great democratic institution-in fact, democracy's only success-the night.