The square root of I is I.

We live not only in a world of thoughts, but also in a world of things. Words without experience are meaningless.

My God died young. Theolatry i found Degrading, and its premises, unsound. No free man needs God; but was I free?

Genius is an African who dreams up snow.

And really, the reason we think of death in celestial terms is that the visible firmament, especially at night (above our blacked-out Paris with the gaunt arches of its Boulevard Exelmans and the ceaseless Alpine gurgle of desolate latrines), is the most adequate and ever-present symbol of that vast silent explosion.

I don't read reviews about myself with any special eagerness or attention unless they are masterpieces of wit and acumen, and I never reread them.

You know, what's so dreadful about dying is that you are completely on your own.