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

— Albert Cohen Le livre de ma mère [The Book of My Mother (1954)

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More quotes by Albert Cohen

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

Le livre de ma mère [The Book of My Mother (1954)

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

Le livre de ma mère [The Book of My Mother (1954)

She answers no more, the one who used to answer always.

Le livre de ma mère [The Book of My Mother (1954)

With her alone I could be far away from everyone.

Le livre de ma mère [The Book of My Mother (1954)

She does not talk anymore, the one who used to talk so pleasantly.

Le livre de ma mère [The Book of My Mother (1954)

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Quote text and notes from Wikiquote: Albert Cohen (page history), available under CC BY-SA 4.0. Source quality and labels are our own summary of what Wikiquote records.