Death Has To Be Waiting At The

Everything Ends This Way In France — Everything. Weddings, Christenings, Duels, Burials, Swindlings, Diplomatic Affairs — Everything Is A Pretext For A Good Dinner.

I Don't Want People To Love Me. It Makes For Obligations.

One Can Make One's Life A Complete Misery, Worrying About Burglaries And Shipwrecks, But Ask Anyone, Anyone You Know ... Earth-shattering Disasters And Fabulous Inheritances All Seems To Take Place Exclusively In The Newspapers.

Life Is A Child Playing Round Your Feet, A Tool You Hold Firmly In Your Grip, A Bench You Sit Down Upon In The Evening, In Your Garden.

It Bothered Me That Whatever Was Waiting Wasn't Waiting For Me