The work of art is born of the intelligence's refusal to reason the concrete. It marks the triumph of the carnal.

A guilty conscience needs to confess. A work of art is a confession.

“To think the way you do,” he said smiling, “you have to be a man who lives either on a tremendous despair, or on a tremendous hope.” “On both, perhaps.”

When I was young, I expected from people more than they could give: neverending friendship and constant excitement. Now I expect less than they can actually can give: to stay close silently. And their feelings, friendship, noble deeds always seem like a miracle to me: a true grace.

The soul of a murderer is blind

Whereas the Greeks gave to will the boundaries of reason, we have come to put the will's impulse in the very center of reason, which has, as a result, become deadly.

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.