Mealtime's the only time I get to devote to the things of the spirit.

When I was a kid I used to tell myself the moon was a silver gong and if I could climb high enough to beat on it with both hands all my wishes would come true.

Man seems to be an animal whose capacity for lies is only equalled by his credulity; it does no good to let battalions of cats outof bags, to produce whole harems of naked facts, people eat the same three meals daily deception, and are always ready to turn with fury upon the purveyors of bagless cats and facts undraped. Probably their instinct is wise. Who knows?

It's easy to forget how central the French people are in everything we mean when we say Europe.

Anything that happens to you has some bearing upon what you write.

This ain't a war... It's a goddam whorehouse.

Mealtime's the only time I get to devote to the things of the spirit.