The rebel can never find peace. He knows what is good and, despite himself, does evil. The value which supports him is never given to him once and for all - he must fight to uphold it, unceasingly.

That is love, to give away everything, to sacrifice everything, without the slightest desire to get anything in return.3

It is natural to give a clear view of the world after accepting the idea that it must be clear.

For those of us who have been thrown into hell, mysterious melodies and the torturing images of a vanished beauty will always bring us, in the midst of crime and folly, the echo of that harmonious insurrection which bears witness, throughout the centuries, to the greatness of humanity.

Happiness and the absurd are two sons of the same earth. They are inseparable.

To live is to hurt others, and through others, to hurt oneself. Cruel earth! How can we manage not to touch anything? To find what ultimate exile?

I sometimes need to write things which I cannot completely control but which therefore prove that what is in me is stronger than I am.