My wife’s a lot younger than me … thirty years difference . . . You should never marry a woman a lot younger than you … Never …
I noticed a phenomenon that doesn’t often happen toa man: several women turned round as he passed them.
Many years afterwards, we attempt to solve puzzles that were not mysteries at the time and we try to decipher half-obliterated letters from a language that is too old and whose alphabet we don’t even know.
Did you see her again in France?” I asked him.”“No. When I got to France, she was already dead. She committed suicide …”“Why?”“She often told me she was frightened of getting old…
But I am a patient man. I can wait for hours in the rain.
When he was younger, he used the slightest opportunity to slip away from people, without his being able to understand very clearly why he did so: a longing to break free and to breathe in the fresh air?
Something—he wondered later if it was simply his youth—something that had weighed upon him until that moment broke off him, the way a piece of rock slides slowly into the sea and disappears in a spray of foam.
One should never expect anyone to reply to one’s questions.
Nice is a city of ghosts and specters, but I hope not to become one of them right away.
No. She told me she was going to marry him, to get French nationality . . . She was obsessed with getting a nationality…