What a wonderful life I've had! I only wish I'd realized it sooner.

Perhaps the only misplaced curiosity is that which persists in trying to find out here, on this side of death, what lies beyond the grave.

Our perfect companions never have fewer than four feet.

In its early stages, insomnia is almost an oasis in which those who have to think or suffer darkly take refuge.

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.

In the matter of furnishing, I find a certain absence of ugliness far worse than ugliness.

One keeps forgetting old age up to the very brink of the grave.