Thought flies and words go on foot.

I enter the world called real as one enters a mist.

A scrupulous man will never produce a great novel.

Yesterday, happiness came in suddenly, as it used to, and remained for a moment in the great, dark, silent drawing room.

Our life is a book that writes itself and whose principal themes sometimes escape us. We are like characters in a novel who do not always understand what the author wants of them.

The secret is to write just anything, to dare to write just anything, because when you write just anything, you begin to say what is important.

Anti-clericalism and non-belief, have their bigots just as orthodoxy does.