The truth isn't always beauty, but the hunger for it is.
In a certain sense a writer is 'selected' by his subject - his subject being the consciousness of his own era.
The solitude of writing is also quite frightening. It's quite close to madness, one just disappears for a day and loses touch.
I'm forty-nine but I could be twenty-five except for my face and my legs.
Sincerity is never having an idea of oneself.
A truly living human being cannot remain neutral.