For the existentials, negation is their God. To be precise, that god is maintained only through the negation of human reason. But, like suicides, gods change with men.

I have a very old and very faithful attachment for dogs. I like them because they always forgive.

They hurt each other without wanting to, just because each represented to the others the cruel and demanding necessity of their lives.

For the first time in a long time I thought about Maman. I felt as if I understood why at the end of her life she had taken a 'fiancé,' why she had played at beginning again. Even there, in that home where lives were fading out, evening was a kind of wistful respite. So close to death, Maman must have felt free then and ready to live it all again. Nobody, nobody had the right to cry over her. And I felt ready to live it all again too.

I rebel; therefore I exist.

Why should it be essential to love rarely in order to love much?

Proof is never definitive, after all; one has to begin again with each new person.