We play make believe, pretend to take ourselves and each other seriously--to love each other, hate each other--but then--it isn't true. It isn't true, we don't care at all!

If we have anything kind to say, any tender sentiment to express, we feel a sense of shame.

It so difficult to know what the people we love really need.

I think the family is the place where the most ridiculous and least respectable things in the world go on.

When you want to believe in something, you also have to believe in everything that's necessary for believing in it.

A long association-prolonged human contact, when a man and woman live together-this ends up producing a sort of rot, a poison.

Thought itself needs words. It runs on them like a long wire. And if it loses the habit of words, little by little it becomes shapeless, somber.