“Any life, however long and complicated it may be, actually consists of a single moment — the moment when a man knows forever more who he is.”

“SomeoneA man worn down by time,a man who does not even expect death(the proofs of death are statisticsand everyone runs the riskof being the first immortal),a man who has learned to express thanksfor the days' modest alms:sleep, routine, the taste of water,an unsuspected etymology,a Latin or Saxon verse,the memory of a woman who left himthirty years ago nowwhom he can call to mind without bitterness,a man who is aware that the presentis both future and oblivion,a man who has betrayedand has been betrayed,may feel suddenly, when crossing the street,a mysterious happinessnot coming from the side of hopebut from an ancient innocence,from his own root or from some diffuse god.He knows better than to look at it closely,for there are reasons more terrible than tigerswhich will prove to himthat wretchedness is his duty,but he accepts humblythis felicity, this glimmer.Perhaps in death when the dustis dust, we will be foreverthis undecipherable root,from which will grow forever,serene or horrible,or solitary heaven or hell.”

“If I could live again my life,In the next – I’ll try,- to make more mistakes,I won’t try to be so perfect,I’ll be more relaxed,I’ll be more full – than I am now,In fact, I’ll take fewer things seriously,I’ll be less hygienic,I’ll take more risks,I’ll take more trips,I’ll watch more sunsets,I’ll climb more mountains,I’ll swim more rivers,I’ll go to more places – I’ve never been,I’ll eat more ice creams and less lima beans,I’ll have more real problems – and less imaginary ones,I was one of those people who liveprudent and prolific lives -each minute of his life,Of course that I had moments of joy – but,if I could go back I’ll try to have only good moments,If you don’t know – that’s what life is made of,Don’t lose the now!I was one of those who never goes anywherewithout a thermometer,without a hot-water bottle,and without an umbrella and without a parachute,If I could live again – I will travel light,If I could live again – I’ll try to work bare feetat the beginning of spring till the end of autumn,I’ll ride more carts,I’ll watch more sunrises and play with more children,If I have the life to live – but now I am 85,- and I know that I am dying …”

“Chang Tzu tells us of a persevering man who after three laborious years mastered the art of dragon-slaying. For the rest of his days, he had not a single opportunity to test his skills.”

“At my age, one should be aware of one's limits, and this knowledge may make for happiness. When I was young, I thought of literature as a game of skillful and surprising variations; now that I have found my own voice, I feel that tinkering and tampering neither greatly improve nor greatly spoil my drafts. This, of course, is a sin against one of the main tendencies of letters in this century--the vanity of overwriting-- ... I suppose my best work is over. This gives me a certain quiet satisfaction and ease. And yet I do not feel I have written myself out. In a way, youthfulness seems closer to me today than when I was a young man. I no longer regard happiness as unattainable; once, long ago, I did. Now I know that it may occur at any moment but that it should never be sought after. As to failure or fame, they are quite irrelevant and I never bother about them. What I'm out for now is peace, the enjoyment of thinking and of friendship, and, though it may be too ambitious, a sense of loving and of being loved.”

“I thought that a man can be an enemy of other men, of the moments of other men, but not of a country: not of fireflies, words, gardens, streams of water, sunsets.”

“In all fiction, when a man is faced with alternatives he chooses one at the expense of others.”