Each of us when he appears before his fellows is clothed in a certain dignity. But every man knows what unconfessable things pass within the secrecy of his own heart.

The man, the writer, the instrument of the creation will die, but his creation does not die.

Life is full of strange absurdities, which, strangely enough, do not even need to appear plausible, since they are true.

Pretending is a virtue. If you cant pretend, you can't be king.

If only we could see in advance all the harm that can come from the good we think we are doing.

One cannot choose what he writes - one can only choose to face it.

Whatever is a reality today, whatever you touch and believe in and that seems real for you today, is going to be - like the reality of yesterday - an illusion tomorrow.