Human relationships always help us to carry on because they always presuppose a future.

But - I cannot make a choice. I have my own sorrow, but I suffer with him, too; I share his pain. I understand all - that is my trouble.

Our reason has driven all away. Alone at last, we end up ruling over a desert.

Without memories, without hope, they lived for the moment only. indeed, the here and now had come to mean everything to them. For there is no denying that the plague had gradually killed off in all of us the faculty not of love only but even of friendship. Naturally enough, since love asks something of the future, and nothing was left us but a series of present moments.

... We need the sweet pain of anticipation to tell us we are really alive.

Happiness implied a choice, and within that choice a concerted will, a lucid desire.

To know oneself, one should assert oneself.