The sun shone, having no alternative, on the nothing new.

I gave up before birth.

How do you manage it, she said, at your age? I told her I'd been saving up for her all my life.

Don’t wait to be hunted to hide, that was always my motto.

Not to want to say, not to know what you want to say, not to be able to say what you think you want to say, and never to stop saying, or hardly ever, that is the thing to keep in mind, even in the heat of composition.

Let us do something, while we have the chance! ... Let us make the most of it, before it is too late! Let us represent worthily for one the foul brood to which a cruel fate consigned us!

To restore silence is the role of objects.