Our true birthplace is that in which we cast for the first time an intelligent eye on ourselves. My first homelands were my books.

Cruelty is the luxury of those who have nothing to do, like drugs or racing stables.

Writing is a perpetual choice between a thousand expressions, none of which satisfies me, none of which, above all, satisfies me without the others. Yet I ought to know that only music permits a succession of chords.

Everything that we do affects our fate for better or for worse. The circumstances into which we are born also exert a tremendous influence; we come into the world with debits and credits for which we are not responsible already posted to our account: this teaches us humility.

I think still that someone wiser than I might well have remained happy till his death.

Any truth creates a scandal.

The world is big … May it please the One who perchance is to expand the human heart to life's full measure.