The thought came over me that never would one full and absolute moment, containing all the others, justify my life, that all of my instants would be provisional phases, annihilators of the past turned to face the future, and that beyond the episodic, the present, the circumstantial, we were nobody.

Many of the characters are fools and they're always playing tricks on me and treating me badly.

Every writer creates his own precursors. His work modifies our conception of the past, as it will modify the future.

I can’t talk about my books. I have written them and tried to forget them. I have written once, and readers have read me many times, no? I try to think of what I wrote, it’s very unhealthy to think about the past, the case of elegies is very sad, as much as the case of complaints.

The machinery of the world is far too complex for the simplicity of men.

I never reread what I've written. I'm far too afraid to feel ashamed of what I've done.

The time for your labor has been granted.