Perhaps its inevitable, perhaps one has to choose between being nothing at all and impersonating what one is.

You see, the contemporary writer must write through his intimations of unease, while trying to elucidate them.

All that I know about my life, it seems, I have learned in books.

That’s what existence means: draining one’s own self dry without the sense of thirst.

I have such a desire to sleep and am so much behind my sleep. A good night, one good night and all this nonsense will be swept away.

Existence is an imperfection.

Il n'y a de réalité que dans l'action. (There is no reality except in action.)