Words should be only the clothes, carefully custom-made to fit the thought.

I have a remarkable memory; I forget everything. It is wonderfully convenient. It is as though the world were constantly renewing itself for me.

We spend our lives talking about this mystery. Our life.

Acting of some actors seems natural, because they have no talent.

The void yields up nothing. You have to be a great poet to make it ring.

Our dream dashes itself against the great mystery like a wasp against a window pane. Less merciful than man, God never opens the window.

God, he whom everyone knows, by name.