Here we are in the century of information, that is to say the unformed. Every kind of literature will be journalistic, with a science for ballast.

The object is that which is objected against me.

Hunger justifies the middle classes.

The literature of impotence is about to develop beyond measure.

When the house is blown up, there’s nothing to shut or open.

A literally perfect style should conceal itself so completely behind what it expresses that it goes unnoticed.

Sacrilege is acceptable only as a game.