The next best thing to talking to her is talking about her.
If you have abandoned one faith, do not abandon all faith. There is always an alternative to the faith we lose. Or is it the same faith under another mask?
To be in love is to see yourself as someone else sees you, it is to be in love with the falsified and exalted image of yourself. In love we are incapable of honor - the courageous act is no more than playing a part to an audience of two.
Never presume yours is a better morality.
It is impossible to go through life without trust: that is to be imprisoned in the worst cell of all, oneself.
So much in writing depends on the superficiality of one's days. One may be preoccupied with shopping and income tax returns and chance conversations, but the stream of the unconscious continues to flow undisturbed, solving problems, planning ahead: one sits down sterile and dispirited at the desk, and suddenly the words come as though from the air: the situations that seemed blocked in a hopeless impasse move forward: the work has been done while one slept or shopped or talked with friends.
The subject of a novel is not the plot. Who remembers what happened to Lucien de Rebempre in the end?
It is one of the strange discoveries a man can make that life, however you lead it, contains moments of exhilaration; there are always comparisons which can be made with worse times: even in danger and misery the pendulum swings.
Innocence always calls mutely for protection when we would be so much wiser to guard ourselves against it: innocence is like a dumb leper who has lost his bell, wandering the world, meaning no harm.
A man kept his character even when he was insane.
One never knows enough about characters in real life to put them into novels. One gets started and then, suddenly, one can not remember what toothpaste they use; what are their views on interior decoration, and one is stuck utterly. No, major characters emerge; minor ones may be photographed.
Thought's a luxury. Do you think the peasant sits and thinks of God and Democracy when he gets inside his mud hut at night?
In our hearts there is a ruthless dictator, ready to contemplate the misery of a thousand strangers if it will ensure the happiness of the few we love.
Unhappiness in a child accumulates because he sees no end to the dark tunnel. The thirteen weeks of a term might just as well be thirteen years.
I hate you, God. I hate you as though you actually exist.
Point me out the happy man and I will point you out either egotism, selfishness, evil - or else an absolute ignorance.
Suffering is not increased by numbers; one body can contain all the suffering the world can feel.
We can love with our minds, but can we love only with our minds? Love extends itself all the time, so that we can love even with our senseless nails: we love even with our clothes, so that a sleeve can feel a sleeve.
She was not too young to be wise, but she was too young to know that wisdom shouldn't be spoken aloud when you are happy.
Innocence is like a dumb leper who has lost his bell, wandering the world, meaning no harm.
It was as though our love were a small creature caught in a trap and bleeding to death: I had to shut my eyes and wring its neck.
For an artist to think in terms of success is like a priest trying to think in terms of success.
The economy of a novelist is a little like that of a careful housewife who is unwilling to throw away anything that might perhaps serve its turn.
All good novelists have bad memories. What you remember comes out as journalism; what you forget goes into the compost of the imagination.
One forgets so quickly one's own youth.
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