Author of quotes: Françoise Sagan. Page 4

In old age, less joy, but more interest. I'm not afraid of old age scares me more: that each output will never be an adventure, even an adventure is only an exchange of smiles. For me age has a direct relationship to physical love. Scary if you will not be able to cause what is called desire. To die in fifty years or live with something else- sad. Never meet a Stranger. It might be better to talk lying in bed, side by side. To exclude from his life adventure - ay-ay-ay!

I love to dream, to do nothing, watch as time passes, and never experience the feelings of emptiness or boredom: this is freedom. I'm still not able to force myself to do what I'm bored; I take life as it is now, look to the right, to the left, but neither backward nor forward. <...> Very lazy to be very difficult, because it assumes, first, the imagination to do nothing, and secondly, the confidence to not feel guilty for doing nothing, and finally, the taste of life. Each minute that passes seemed to be self-sufficient and not have to say to yourself: I did so-and-so. To do nothing, also need very strong nerves, to the respect of others and a desire to prove to yourself what you're capable of, was for you an empty phrase.<...> I'm lazy, but to work like the pleasure overcomes laziness, and occasionally I work with. And in General, I'm nice, it's my best quality.

And then, all neutral, cold is killing me. But here's the weird part: those who are capable of tenderness, love, understanding, and ultimately, quite a lot, usually embarrassed to show feelings, they think that it will drop them in their own eyes and in the eyes of others. But anyone who is gentle and vulnerable, just looser, it turns out, in the end, a winner. If you lay down your weapons, you are invincible; I know for a long time...

So, I hate sweet perfume, plastic, TV, TV just can't stand. I hate avarice, envy, intolerance. I hate when they show bad manners when someone in front of me humiliate. I hate racism in all its manifestations. I hate lack of imagination, conformity; I was angry a speedy trial, and even arrogance, conceit and this stupid fear, because of which everyone tries to be at least something above the others because he was an Aryan, or Jewish, or poor, or rich. Everything is in motion to look the smartest. And I hate smug ignorance.

I am pessimistic about civilization as we know it and often do. To the extent that people have no time to get to know each other, understand each other, just no time... Time is what we lack. I am convinced that in the evenings in Paris are fewer people making love. Probably all too tired.

The writer is a wild beast trapped in a cage alone. He's peeking or not peeking - out depending on whether he has time for it.

I believe in the constancy of the instinct, desires, needs. It is indestructible. Is the need not to feel fear, to be safe, warm, be loved. And I see it every day. Every day I see that people need a place to lie down, need someone who can say "I love you" need not know loneliness, fear, awakenings in a cold sweat. People are scared to live, scared to lose, im scared, really scared. And every person has something beautiful, it's impossible to be born a perfect freak. But sometimes it can't find, simply because are not looking, and it ends badly, it's silly in court.

Man - it in fact consists of nerves, bones, blood... it's something extraordinary. But if he commits a heinous act, that there is always a reason, weakness, prevented to do otherwise; and I feel that I can't be the first to throw a stone at him, really. I love the people that I was loath to harm them. A judge is already hurt.

I believe neither in current nor in conversations about the update of the novel. How many more need to learn about the person! I would compare the writer with the logger. The tree is too huge to spend time learning the axe. Literature is Balzac in a Bathrobe and holding a Cup of coffee, who wrote: "suddenly he saw her, and fell in love with her madly, and died at her feet, crying, and the last tear rolled down his cheek"; that, of course, Proust, Dostoevsky, who described seizures of Prince Myshkin... Every writer wants to be Proust. This, in my opinion, obviously. That's just Proust was a genius.

... I'm interested in is the relationship of people with loneliness and love. And I know that it is the basis of human life; it does not matter, he is an astronaut or acrobat, more importantly, who his wife or husband, lover or mistress. It is striking that the psychological relationships within the group that I describe are applicable to any environment. Jealousy is one and the same for a Parisian intellectual and a farmer from the Gironde. <...> Feelings are everywhere the same in one environment as in another.

External events are always random. Drama is to get up in the morning, at night, fuss in the interval until death. Drama is everyday life... from time to Time we realize, but rarely.

Two themes predominate in my books, always the same, it's true: love, loneliness; it would be better to say loneliness and love, because my main theme is loneliness. Love in a sense, even a hindrance, because paramount seems to me the loneliness of people and how they get rid of him.

When you have all the hurt in the course of the year is a lot. Chamfer said, "Lord, deliver me from the physical torment, mental I can handle it". This has largely been my motto.

The perfect man does not exist. The perfect man is someone you love at the moment.