People who learn some correct detail about another person's life at once draw conclusions from it which are not accurate, and see in the newly discovered fact an explanation of things that have no connexion with it whatsoever.
I spent many a charming evening talking and playing with Albertine, but none so sweet as when I was watching her sleep.
No doubt my books too, like my mortal being, would eventually die, one day. But one has to resign oneself to dying. One accepts the thought that in ten years oneself, in a hundred years one's books, will not exist. Eternal duration is no more promised to books than it is to men.
Do not wait for life. Do not long for it. Be aware, always and at every moment, that the miracle is in the here and now.
An artist, however modest, is always willing to hear himself preferred to his rivals, and tries only to see that justice is done them.
Art extracted from the most familiar reality does indeed exist and its domain is perhaps the largest of any.