Although I knew enough Freud to believe that the sex urge was an important mainspring of life, it still seemed to me that any conscious manifestation of sex was necessarily ludicrous. Defecation and copulation were two activities which made a human being totally ridiculous. At least the former could be conducted in private, but the latter by definition demanded a partner. I discovered, though, that whenever I ventured this opinion, people took it as a joke.

The soul is the weariest part of the body.

The only effort worth making is the one it takes to learn the geography of one's own nature.

We've never managed, either one of us, to get all the way into life. We're hanging on to the outside for all we're worth, convinced we're going to fall off at the next bump.

How fragile we are under the sheltering sky. Behind the sheltering sky is a vast dark universe, and we're just so small.

One never took the time to savour the details; one said: another day, but always with the hidden knowledge that each day was unique and fatal, that there never would be a return, another time.

If people and their manner of living were alike everywhere, there would not be much point in moving from one place to another.