A guilty conscience needs to confess. A work of art is a confession.
At a certain level of suffering or injustice no one can do anything for anyone. Pain is solitary.
Their guilt made me eloquent because I was not its victim.
What is human in me is not what is best in me. What is human in me is that I desire, and to obtain what I desire, I believe I would crush anything that stood in my way.
It's better to bet on this life than on the next.
Yes, I'm happy, in human terms.