Charm is a way of getting the answer 'Yes' without asking a clear question.

The French Revolution gave birth to no artists but only to a great journalist, Desmoulins, and to an under-the-counter writer, Sade. The only poet of the times was the guillotine.

In short, they were gambling on their luck, and luck is not to be coerced.

I knew a pure heart who refused tot be mistrustful.... He had written at his doorstep: "From wherever you are, enter and be welcome". Who do you think responded to this lovely invitation? The militia, who made themselves at home and gutted him.

I can feel this heart inside me and I conclude it exists. I can touch this world and I also conclude that it exists. All my knowledge ends at this point. The rest is hypothesis.

This divorce between man and his life, the actor and his setting, is properly the feeling of absurdity.

Although it was the middle of winter, I finally realized that, within me, summer was inextinguishable.