The novel wins by points, the short story by knockout.

I think we all have a little bit of that beautiful madness that keeps us walking when everything around us is so insanely sane.

Come sleep with me: We won't make Love,Love will make us.

Of all our feelings the only one which really doesn't belong to us is hope. Hope belongs to life, it's life itself defending itself. Etcetera.

Only in dreams, in poetry, in play do we sometimes arrive at what we were before we were this thing that, who knows, we are.

The evolution from happiness to habit is one of death's best weapons.

Time is born in the eyes, everybody knows that.

Only by living absurdly is it possible to break out of this infinite absurdity.

A short story relies on those values that make poetry and jazz what they are: tension, rhythms, inner beat, into unforeseen within foreseen parameters

Everything can be killed except nostalgia for the kingdom, we carry it in the color of our eyes, in every love affair, in everything that deeply torments and unties and tricks.

Once in a while it happens that I vomit up a bunny... it's not reason for one to blush and isolate oneself and to walk around keeping one's mouth shut.

I don’t see any dearth of women leaders, it’s a question of what we consider a woman leader.

Trample not on the ruins of a man.

I am intentionally avoiding the standard term which, by the way, did not exist in Euler's time. One of the ugliest outgrowths of the "new math" was the premature introduction of technical terms.

I've been in a few fights and I know what it's like to get punched in the face.

I love surprises and coincidences. I love them even more when I don't pass them off as luck, but rather recognize them as a sign that my life's course is right on track.

We are the ones who have distanced ourselves from God and then we've blamed him for the distance.

I had a blast, but I still wonder sometimes why they saw me as the perfect guy for this strange character.

Silence too can be indiscreet.

Superstitious notions propagated in infancy are hardly ever totally eradicate, not even in minds grown strong enough to despise the like credulous folly in others.