...she always had the feeling that it was very, very dangerous to live even one day.

To love makes one solitary.

Let a man get up and say, Behold, this is the truth, and instantly I perceive a sandy cat filching a piece of fish in the background. Look, you have forgotten the cat, I say.

If we face the fact, for it is a fact, that there is no arm to cling to, but that we go alone and that our relation is to the world of reality and not only to the world of men and women.

I am writing to a rhythm and not to a plot.

Style is a very simple matter; it is all rhythm. Once you get that, you can't use the wrong words.

I will not be "famous," "great." I will go on adventuring, changing, opening my mind and my eyes, refusing to be stamped and stereotyped. The thing is to free one's self: to let it find its dimensions, not be impeded.