Total Absence Of Humor Renders Life Impossible.

As For An Authentic Villain, The Real Thing, The Absolute, The Artist, One Rarely Meets Him Even Once In A Lifetime. The Ordinary Bad Hat Is Always In Part A Decent Fellow.

It's So Curious: One Can Resist Tears And 'behave' Very Well In The Hardest Hours Of Grief. But Then Someone Makes You A Friendly Sign Behind A Window, Or One Notices That A Flower That Was In Bud Only Yesterday Has Suddenly Blossomed, Or A Letter Slips From A Drawer... And Everything Collapses.

My True Friends Have Always Given Me That Supreme Proof Of Devotion, A Spontaneous Aversion For The Man I Loved.

Smokers, Male And Female, Inject And Excuse Idleness In Their Lives Every Time They Light A Cigarette.

Voluptuaries, Consumed By Their Senses, Always Begin By Flinging Themselves With A Great Display Of Frenzy Into An Abyss. But They Survive, They Come To The Surface Again. And They Develop A Routine Of The Abyss: It's Four O Clock. At Five I Have My Abyss.