We should tackle reality in a slightly jokey way, otherwise we miss its point.

All culture corrupts, but French culture corrupts absolutely.

The artist's work constitutes the only satisfactory relationship he can have with his fellow men since he seeks his real friends among the dead and the unborn.

Of women, the most we can say, not being Frenchmen, is that they are burrowing animals.

I have been thinking about the girl I met last night in the mirror: dark on the marble-ivory white: glossy black hair: deep suspiring eyes in which one's glances sink because they are nervous, curious, turned to sexual curiosity.

Travel can be one of the most rewarding forms of introspection.

We are all hunting for rational reasons for believing in the absurd.