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

For the existentials, negation is their God. To be precise, that god is maintained only through the negation of human reason. But, like suicides, gods change with men.

In fact, other people create for lack of power. I, on the other hand, do not need a work: I live.

We do not know how to eliminate evil, but we do know how to feed some of the hungry and heal some of the infirmed.

But too many people now climb onto the cross merely to be seen from a greater distance, even if they have to trample somewhat on the one who has been there so long.

[Paris] is dirty. It has pigeons and black yards. The people have white skin.

This absurd, godless world is, then, peopled with men who think clearly and have ceased to hope. And I have not yet spoken of the most absurd character, who is the creator.