The world in which we were called to exist was an absurd world, and there was no other in which we could take refuge.

A character is never the author who created him. It is quite likely, however, that an author may be all his characters simultaneously.

We are condemned to live together.

I enjoyed my own nature to the fullest, and we all know there lies happiness, although, to soothe one another mutually, we occasionally pretend to condemn such joys as selfishness.

A fate is not a punishment.

Nothing is more despicable than respect based on fear.

The absurd depends as much on man as on the world. For the moment, it is all that links them together.