I Don't Have General Views About Anything,

The Best Way To Fill Time Is To Waste It.

Nowhere Is One More Alone Than In Paris ... And Yet Surrounded By Crowds. Nowhere Is One More Likely To Incur Greater Ridicule. And No Visit Is More Essential.

Finding Yourself In A Hole, At The Bottom Of A Hole, In Almost Total Solitude, And Discovering That Only Writing Can Save You. To Be Without The Slightest Subject For A Book, The Slightest Idea For A Book, Is To Find Yourself, Once Again, Before A Book. A Vast Emptiness. A Possible Book. Before Nothing. Before Something Like Living, Naked Writing, Like Something Terrible, Terrible To Overcome.

People Come To Paris, To The Capital, To Give Their Lives A Sense Of Belonging, Of An Almost Mythical Participation In Society.

I Believe That Always, Or Almost Always, In All Childhoods And In All The Lives That Follow Them, The Mother Represents Madness. Our Mothers Always Remain The Strangest, Craziest People We've Ever Met.