No great art has ever been made without the artist having known danger.

Wishes are recollections coming from the future.

This is the miracle that happens every time to those who really love: the more they give, the more they possess.

Irony: Don't let yourself be controlled by it, especially during uncreative moments.

a kind of memory that tells us that what we're now striving for was once nearer and truer and attached to us with infinite tenderness. Here all is distance, there it was breath. After the first home the second one seems draughty and strangely sexed.

Look, I am living. On what? Neither childhood nor future lessens . . . . Superabundant existence wells in my heart.

He does not always remain bent over the pages; he often leans back and closes his eyes over a line he has been reading again, and its meaning spreads through his blood.