There are very few human beings who receive the truth, complete and staggering, by instant illumination. Most of them acquire it fragment by fragment, on a small scale, by successive developments, cellularly, like a laborious mosaic.

Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.

Why one writes is a question I can answer easily, having so often asked it of myself. I believe one writes because one has to create a world in which one can l…

Creation which cannot express itself becomes madness.