Man is an idea, and a precious small idea once he turns his back on love.

I'd have given ten conversations with Einstein for a first meeting with a pretty chorus girl.

I was born poor and without religion, under a happy sky, feeling harmony, not hostility, in nature. I began not by feeling torn, but in plenitude.

Today we are always as ready to judge as we are to fornicate.

Wandering seemed no more than the happiness of an anxious man.

Thus, in a middle course between these heights and depths, they drifted through life rather than lived, the prey of aimless days and sterile memories, like wandering shadows that could have acquired substance only by consenting to root themselves in the solid earth of their distress.

People have played on words and pretended to believe that refusing to grant a meaning to life necessarily leads to declaring that it is not worth living. In truth, there is no necessary common measure between these two judgments.