Those who consider the Devil to be a partisan of Evil and angels to be warriors for Good accept the demagogy of the angels. Things are clearly more complicated.

...no one can do a thing about feelings, they exist and there's no way to censor them. We can reproach ourselves for some action, for a remark, but not for a feeling, quite simply because we have no control at all over it.

He was well aware that of the two of three thousand times he had made love (how many times had he made love in his life?) only two or three were really essential and unforgettable. The rest were mere echoes, imitations, repetitions, or reminiscences.

In the mind of a woman for whom no place is home the thought of an end to all flight is unbearable.

The novelist teaches the reader to comprehend the world as a question.

And what can life be worth if the first rehearsal for life is life itself?

But what had happened, had happened, and it was no longer possible to right anything.