Adulterers, take warning, never admit.
Then I went back into the house and wrote, It is midnight. The rain is beating on the windows. It was not midnight. It was not raining.
Dear incomprehension, it's thanks to you I'll be myself, in the end.
Vladimir: Did I ever leave you? Estragon: You let me go.
Nothing is funnier than unhappiness.
I have nothing but wastes and wilds of self-translation before me for many miserable months to come.