The novel is not the author's confession; it is an investigation of human life in the trap the world has become

The worth of a human being lies in the ability to extend oneself, to go outside oneself, to exist in and for other people.

Great novels are always a little more intelligent than their authors.

This was exactly what the girl had most dreaded all her life and had scrupulously avoided until now: lovemaking without emotion or love. She knew that she had crossed the forbidden boundary, but she proceeded across it without objections and as a full participant; only somewhere, far off in a corner of her consciousness, did she feel horror at the thought that she had never known such pleasure, never so much pleasure as at this moment--beyond that boundary.

I feel a frantic desire to free myself. To start all over again and in another way.

Dreaming is not merely an act of communication (or coded communication, if you like); it is also an aesthetic activity, a game of the imagination, a game that is a value in itself. Our dreams prove that to imagine--to dream about things that have not happened--is among mankind's deepest needs. Herein lies the danger. If dreams were not beautiful, they would be quickly forgotten.

Man reckons with immortality, and forgets to reckon with death.