With her alone I could be far away from everyone. — Albert Cohen

"Alone dwells every man and everyone mocks everyone else, and a deserted island is our pain."

"I say to myself that her small hands are no more worm, and that I would never again carry them soft to my front."

"Go away, image of my living mother, full of life, as I saw her in France for the last time. Go away! My mothers ghost."

"Human friends, friends in hardship and in life, this is our pure love, love of mother and son."

"In my solitude I sing to myself a sweet lullaby, as sweet as my mother used to sing to me."

"Yes, the words, the land of my birth, they console me and compensate, but they would not bring me my mother back."