This city belongs to ghosts, to murderers, to sleepwalkers. Where are you, in what bed, in what dream?

Want of passion is, I think, a very striking characteristic of Americans, not unrelated to their predilection for violence. For very few people truly have a passionate desire to achieve, and violence serves as a kind of substitute.

Books are not life, only its ashes.

A touch of madness is, I think, almost always necessary for constructing a destiny.

No one understands eternity. One simply recognizes its existence.

age means nothing. If anything I feel that I'm still a child: eternity and childhood are my ages.

When two texts, or two assertions, perhaps two ideas, are in contradiction, be ready to reconcile them rather than cancel one by the other; regard them as two different facets, or two successive stages, of the same reality, a reality convincingly human just because it is too complex.