There are metaphysical problems, problems of human existence, that philosophy has never known how to grasp in all their concreteness and that only the novel can seize.

But man, because he has only one life to live, cannot conduct experiments to test whether to follow his passion (compassion) or not.

But just make someone who has fallen in love listen to his stomach rumble, and the unity of body and soul, that lyrical illusion of the age of science , instantly fades away.

There is a certain part of all of us that lives outside of time. Perhaps we become aware of our age only at exceptional moments and most of the time we are ageless.

The longing for Paradise is man's longing not to be man.

In her presence I could dare everything: sincerity, emotion, pathos.

In the realm of totalitarian kitsch, all answers are given in advance and preclude any questions.