Wake a question. Eat an instant, answer.
I have lived half of my life in Paris, not the half the made me but the half in which I made what I made.
A light white, a disgras, an ink spot, a rosy charm.
We are always the same age inside.
The difference between saints, forget-me-nots, and mountains, have to, have to, have to at a time.
Everybody gets so much information all day long that they lose their common sense.
If a thing can be done, why do it?
You have to know what you want. And if it seems to take you off the track, don’t hold back, because perhaps that is instinctively where you want to be. And if you hold back and try to be always where you have been before, you will go dry.
Argument is to me the air I breathe. Given any proposition, I cannot help believing the other side and defending it.
Everybody knows if you are too careful you are so occupied in being careful that you are sure to stumble over something.
It takes a lot of time to be a genius, you have to sit around so much doing nothing, really doing nothing.
I have always noticed that in portraits of really great writers the mouth is always firmly closed.
You are extraordinary within your limits, but your limits are extraordinary!
Generally speaking, everyone is more interesting doing nothing than doing anything.
In the morning there is meaning, in the evening there is feeling.
If the communication is perfect, the words have life, and that is all there is to good writing, putting down on the paper words which dance and weep and make love and fight and kiss and perform miracles.
It is the soothing thing about history that it does repeat itself.
Why should a sequence of words be anything but a pleasure?
Whoever said money can’t buy happiness didn’t know where to shop.
Every day is a renewal, every morning the daily miracle. This joy you feel is life.