As always the thought of his own death calmed him as much as that of others disturbed him: was it perhaps because, when all was said and done, his own death would in the first place mean that of the whole world?

Love. Of course, love. Flames for a year, ashes for thirty.

If we want things to stay as they are, things will have to change.

A house of which one knew every room wasn’t worth living in.