We see, we hear, we conceive the world in a lopsided fashion.
This newcomer, so dreaded yet beneficent, who was none other than one of those spare selves which destiny holds in reserve for us, and which, paying no more heed to our entreaties than a clear-sighted and thus authoritative physician, it substitutes in spite of us, by a timely intervention, for the self that has been too seriously wounded.
The incomparable person, malicious, sensitive, refined, caddish, disinterested, ambitious which one can be, in turn, every day of one’s life.
Our love of life is only an old liaison of which we do not know how to rid ourselves.
In so many people there are different strata which are not alike: the character of the father, then of the mother; one traverses first one, then the other. But, next day, the order of their superimposition is reversed. And finally one does not know who will decide between the contestants, to whom one is to appeal for the verdict.