The novel is a territory where one does not make assertions; it is a territory of play and of hypotheses.
In the world of highways, a beautiful landscape means: an island of beauty connected by a long line with other islands of beauty.
A constant interrogation.
A single metaphor can give birth to love.
How did the senator know that children meant happiness? Could he see into their souls? What if the moment they were out of sight, three of them jumped the fourth and began beating him up?
Metaphors are dangerous. Metaphors are not to be trifled with.
Anyone whose goal is ‘something higher’ must expect someday to suffer vertigo.
Speak truth to power.
What I need most of all is certainty.
Suspending moral judgment is not the immorality of the novel; it is its morality.
Sad company is bad company.
No love can survive muteness.
Merely by being born intelligent, you right away find yourself in absolute exile.
Ambition is a poor excuse for not having sense enough to be lazy.
In the love poetry of every age, the woman longs to be weighed down by the man’s body.
I feel a frantic desire to free myself. To start all over again and in another way.
God has been kind to dogs in no putting a sense of beauty into their heads.
The first step in liquidating a people is to erase its memory. Destroy its books, its culture, its history.
The border between good and evil is terribly fuzzy.
Beauty is a rebellion against time.