It was as if that great rush of anger had washed me clean, emptied me of hope, and, gazing up at the dark sky spangled with its signs and stars, for the first time, the first, I laid my heart open to the benign indifference of the universe. To feel it so like myself, indeed, so brotherly, made me realize that I'd been happy, and that I was happy still. For all to be accomplished, for me to feel less lonely, all that remained to hope was that on the day of my execution there should be a huge crowd of spectators and that they should greet me with howls of execration.

In the world there is, parallel to the force of death and constraint, an enormous force of persuasion that is called culture.

No doubt our love was still there, but quite simply it was unusable, heavy to carry, inert inside of us, sterile as crime or condemnation. It was no longer anything except a patience with no future and a stubborn wait.

If something is going to happen to me, I want to be there.

One always has exaggerated ideas about what one doesn't know.

Once one's up against it, the precise manner of one's death has obviously small importance.

One cannot be a part-time nihilist.