One must imagine Sisyphus happy.

Of course, true love is exceptional - two or three times a century, more or less. The rest of the time there is vanity or boredom.

Culture: the cry of men in face of their destiny.

Crime too is a form of solitude, even if one thousand get together to commit it. And it is right for me to die alone, after having lived and killed alone.

You must have a love, a great love, to ensure an alibi at unjustified despairs that conquer all of us

Integrity needs no rules.

No matter how the sun shone, the sea held forth no more promises.