I took to writing at an early age to escape from meaninglessness, uselessness, unimportance, insignificance, poverty, enslavement, ill health, despair, madness, and all manner of other unattractive, natural and inevitable things.

It is a pity, in my opinion, that no prize exists for the writer who best refrains from adding to the world's bad books.

Everybody has got to die, but I have always believed an exception would be made in my case.

Babies who have not yet been taught to speak any language are the only race of the earth, the race of man: all the rest is pretence, what we call civilization, hatred, fear, desire for strength.

This is what drives a young writer out of his head, this feeling that nothing is being said.

People is all everything is, all it has ever been, all it can ever be.

To Armenians, half Armenians, quarter Armenians, and one-eight Armenians. Sixteen and thirty-second Armenians, and other winners, are likelier to be happy with a useful book