I want nothing from love, in short, but love.

Hope costs nothing.

Smokers, male and female, inject and excuse idleness in their lives every time they light a cigarette.

It takes time for the absent to assume their true shape in our thoughts.

Truffles must come to the table in their own stock and as you break open this jewel sprung from a poverty-stricken soil, imagine - if you have never visited it - the desolate kingdom where it rules.

January, month of empty pockets! let us endure this evil month, anxious as a theatrical producer's forehead.

So now, whenever I despair, I no longer expect my end, but some bit of luck, some commonplace little miracle which, like a glittering link, will mend again the necklace of my days.