Every novel is an ideal plane inserted into the realm of reality.

It seemed incredible that this day, a day without warnings or omens, might be that of my implacable death.

I think that the reader should enrich what he is reading. He should misunderstand the text; he should change it into something else.

Death is just infinity closing in.

Emma dropped the paper. Her first impression was of a weak feeling in her stomach and in her knees; then of blind guilt, of unreality, of coldness, of fear; then she wished that it were already the next day. Immediately afterwards she realized that that wish was futile because the death of her father was the only thing that had happened in the world, and it would go on happening endlessly.

I gazed at every mirror on the planet, not one gave back my reflection.

If space is infinite, we may be at any point in space. If time is infinite, we may be at any point in time.