In the past, the poverty they shared had a certain sweetness about it. When the end of the day came and they would eat their dinner in silence with the oil lamp between them, there was a secret joy in such simplicity, such retrenchment.

The workman of today works every day in his life at the same tasks, and this fate is no less absurd. But it is tragic only at the rare moments when it becomes conscious.

The more I accuse myself, the more right I have to judge you. Even better, I make you judge yourself, which comforts me the more.

The current motto for all of us can only be this: without giving up anything on the plane of justice, yield nothing on the plane of freedom.

Sometimes at night I would sleep open-eyed underneath a sky dripping with stars. I was alive then.

Marxism is not scientific: at the best, it has scientific prejudices.

There will be no lasting peace either in the heart of individuals or in social customs until death is outlawed.