I was a neophyte in another world [in 1954].
Criticism often takes from the tree caterpillars and blossoms together.
The universe remains dark. We are animals struck by catastrophe.
I know only one Church: it is the society of men.
[Contemporary writer] could be a kind of [Samuel] Beckett who would not be felt to be totally committed to despair.
A human being who wakened in the morning with a queesy stomach, with fifteen hours to kill before next bedtime, had not much use for freedom.