It's so curious: one can resist tears and 'behave' very well in the hardest hours of grief. But then someone makes you a friendly sign behind a window, or one notices that a flower that was in bud only yesterday has suddenly blossomed, or a letter slips from a drawer... and everything collapses.

Researchers, with science as their authority, will be able to cut animals up, alive, into small pieces, drop them from a great height to see if they are shattered by the fall, or deprive them of sleep for sixteen days and nights continuously for the purposes of an iniquitous monograph. . . . Animal trust, undeserved faith, when at last will you turn away from us? Shall we never tire of deceiving, betraying, tormenting animals before they cease to trust us?

Be happy. It's one way of being wise.

If we want to be sincere, we must admit that there is a well-nourished love and an ill-nourished love. And the rest is literature.

Total absence of humor renders life impossible.

Our perfect companions never have fewer than four feet.

I did not look for her, because I was afraid of dispelling the mystery we attach to people whom we know only casually.