We bestow on others praise in which we do not believe, on condition that in return they bestow upon us praise in which we do.

The books one has written in the past have two surprises in store: one couldn't write them again, and wouldn't want to.

Stupidity, outrage, vanity, cruelty, iniquity, bad faith, falsehood - we fail to see the whole array when it is facing in the same direction as we.

Somebody told me I should put a pebble in my mouth to cure my stuttering. Well, I tried it, and during a scene I swallowed the pebble. That was the end of that.

My pessimism extends to the point of even suspecting the sincerity of other pessimists.

The ideal, without doubt, varies, but its enemies, alas, are always the same.

What makes our opponents useful is that they allow us to believe that without them we would be able to realize our goals.