The mind was dreaming. The world was its dream.

I foresee that man will resign himself each day to new abominations, and soon that only bandits and soldiers will be left...

Israelites, Christians and Muslims profess immortality, but the veneration they render this world proves they believe only in it, since they destine all other worlds, in infinite number, to be its reward or punishment.

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

Then I reflect that all things happen, happen to one, precisely now. Century follows century, and things happen only in the present. There are countless men in the air, on land and at sea, and all that really happens happens to me.

Reality favors symmetry.

Loneliness does not worry me; life is difficult enough, putting up with yourself and with your own habits.