We're extremely fortunate not to know precisely the kind of world we live in. One would have to live a long, long time, unquestionably longer than the world itself.

Poorly prepared for the dignity of life, I barely keep up with the pace of the action imposed. Reality demands.

Something doesn't start at its usual time. Something doesn't happen as it should. Someone was always, always here, then suddenly disappeared and stubbornly stays disappeared.

Generally speaking, life is so rich and full of variety; you have to remember all the time that there is a comical side to everything.

Existentialists are monumentally and monotonously serious; they don't like to joke.

I'm fighting against the bad poet who is prone to using too many words.

No one feels good at four in the morning. If ants feel good at four in the morning —three cheers for the ants.