... I used words without precautions. I wanted to disappear into them, I fled into the bovaryism of the writer trying to create an effect.

... we do not remember people as they were. What we remember is the effect they had on us then, but we remember it through an emotion charged with all that has since happened to us.

The impossible talked of is less impossible from the moment words are laid to it.

jealousy, the most hideous emotion any human being ever suffers, has nothing to do with the mind. Or not at first.

the sex even in serious pornography has less singularity than the mating of squirrels.

Nothing lasts. Not even a great sorrow.

each time that I have run away - and from a habit it quickly became an illness - I have betrayed someone. Myself, but not always only myself.