I don't know why I told this story. I could just as well have told another. Perhaps some other time I'll be able to tell another. Living souls, you will see how alike they are.

It was long since I had longed for anything and the effect on me was horrible.

The tears of the world are a constant quantity. For each one who begins to weep, somewhere else another stops. The same is true of the laugh.

The human eyelid is not teartight (happily for the human eye).

There is man in his entirety, blaming his shoe when his foot is guilty.

Friendship, according to Proust, is the negation of that irremediable solitude to which every human being is condemned.

The day you die is just like any other, only shorter.