The form [of literature] matters little to me, classical or not.
When one does nothing, one believes oneself responsible for everything.
Something begins in order to end: an adventure doesn't let itself be extended it achieves significance only through its death.
Absurd, irreducible; nothing--not even a profound and secret delirium of nature--could explain [a tree root].
If literature isn't everything, it's not worth a single hour of someone's trouble.
What is boredom? It is when there is simultaneously too much and not enough.