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

I've never really had much of an imagination. But still I would try to picture the exact moment when the beating of my heart would no longer be going on inside my head.

I felt as though I was partly unlearning what i had never learned and yet knew so well: I mean, how to live.

But when a man has had only four hours' sleep he isn't sentimental. He sees things as they are: that is to say, he sees them in the garish light of justice; hideous, witless justice.

Men die and they are not happy.

What is a rebel? A man who says no.

We're going forward, but nothing changes.