I am alone in this white, garden-rimmed street. Alone and free. But this freedom is rather like death.
Criticism often takes from the tree caterpillars and blossoms together.
Everything in my past, in my training, everything that has been most essential in my activity up to now has made me above all a man who writes, and it is too late for that to change.
To know what life is worth you have to risk it once in a while.
There may be more beautiful times, but this one is ours.
I admire [Samuel] Beckett, but I am totally against him. He seeks no improvement.