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

A politician is forced to make a habit of noble phrases and optimistic lies. In the end they infect himself.

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

to grow old is to have taken away, one by one, all gifts of life, the food and wine, the music and the company. ... the gods unloose, one by one, the mortal fingers that cling to the edge of the table.

If you think with enough energy about a hoped-for event, it will in the end happen. Not because you willed it. Because it was all the time in your nature.

Any marriage worth the name is no better than a series of beginnings - many of them abortive.

Nothing lasts. Not even a great sorrow.