There are no ordinary cats.
In its early stages, insomnia is almost an oasis in which those who have to think or suffer darkly take refuge.
That provisional tomb where the living exile sighs, weeps, fights and succumbs, and is born again, remembering nothing, with the day.
Look for a long time at what pleases you, and for a longer time at what pains you.
The writer who loses his self-doubt, who gives way as he grows old to a sudden euphoria, to prolixity, should stop writing immediately: the time has come for him to lay aside his pen.
Total absence of humor renders life impossible.
Hope costs nothing.
For to dream and then to return to reality only means that our qualms suffer a change of place and significance.
Bulldogs are adorable, with faces like toads that have been sat on.
We only do well the things we like doing.