“That each man is the sum of his choices is nothing less than the truth. And each, perhaps, is also something else.”

“One’s mother country is better than all else, and gloomy is life when a man sees not his home each morning”

“In the end, each life is no more than the sum of contingent facts, a chronicle of chance intersections, of flukes, of random events that divulge nothing but their own lack of purpose.”

“Anger is a killing thing: it kills the man who angers, for each rage leaves him less than he had been before - it takes something from him.”

“Each man follows his own path - his own destiny, if you will. And only he is responsible for the choice.”

“The certainty of incoherence in reading, the inevitable crumbling of the soundest constructions, is the deep truth of books. Since appearance constitutes a limit, what truly exists is a dissolution into common opacity rather than a development of lucid thinking. The apparent unchangingness of books is deceptive: each book is also the sum of the misunderstandings it occasions.”