People have played on words and pretended to believe that refusing to grant a meaning to life necessarily leads to declaring that it is not worth living. In truth, there is no necessary common measure between these two judgments.

I said that the world is absurd, but I was too hasty. This world in itself is not reasonable, that is all that can be said. But what is absurd is the confrontation of this irrational and the wild longing for clarity whose call echoes in the human heart.

As soon as one does not kill oneself, one must keep silent about life.

Yes, and when the love of life disappears, no meaning can console us.

A true masterpiece does not tell everything.

Love is the kind of illness that does not spare the intelligent or the dull.

To govern means to pillage, as everyone knows.