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

You cannot imagine at all how much you interest God; He is interested in you as if there were no one else on earth.

I am probably exaggerating a little, but I owe my equilibrium to ink and paper.

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

I have always thought that by observing things with a great deal of attention you eventually wrest some of their secrets from them, making them utter what they would most like to keep to themselves.

A child's fear is a world whose dark corners are quite unknown to grownup people; it has its sky and its abysses, a sky without stars, abysses into which no light can ever penetrate.

Thought flies and words go on foot.