What the painter adds to the canvas are the days of his life. The adventure of living, hurtling toward death.

One of the chief motives of artistic creation is certainly the need of feeling that we are essential in relationship to the world.

A writer who takes political, social or literary positions must act only with the means that are his. These means are the written words.

What is not possible is not to choose.

Some men are born committed to action: they do not have a choice, they have been thrown on a path, at the end of that path, an act awaits them, their act.

I am not asking for sensational revelations, but I would like to sense the meaning of that minute, to feel it's urgency.

The sun is not ridiculous, quite the contrary. On everything I like, on the rust of the construction girders, on the rotten boards of the fence, a miserly, uncertain light falls, like the look you give, after a sleepless night, on decisions made with enthusiasm the day before, on pages you have written in one spurt without crossing out a word.