For years I've wanted to live according to everyone else's morals. I've forced myself to live like everyone else, to look like everyone else. I said what was necessary to join together, even when I felt separate. And after all of this, catastrophe came. Now I wander amid the debris, I am lawless, torn to pieces, alone and accepting to be so, resigned to my singularity and to my infirmities. And I must rebuild a truth-after having lived all my life in a sort of lie.

For ever, I shall be a stranger to myself.

An intense feeling carries with it its own universe, magnificent or wretched as the case may be.

Those who weep for the happy periods which they encounter in history acknowledge what they want; not the alleviation but the silencing of misery.

I lived with the only continuity, day to day, of the me-me-me.

The future is the only transcendental value for men without God.

One dies if necessary, one breaks rather than bending. But I bend, because I continue to love myself.