L'homme Est Condamne A' E" Tre Libre.

If Literature Isn't Everything, It's Not Worth A Single Hour Of Someone's Trouble.

What Is Life But An Unpleasant Interruption To A Peaceful Nonexistence.

Originally, Poetry Creates The Myth, While The Prose-writer Draws Its Portrait.

I Have Seen Children Dying Of Hunger. Over Against A Dying Child La Nausee Cannot Act As A Counterweight.

I Am Going To Outlive Myself. Eat, Sleep, Sleep, Eat. Exist Slowly, Softly, Like These Trees, Like A Puddle Of Water, Like The Red Bench In The Streetcar.