On good days, if you trust life, life has to answer you.

When I see a new face, something sets off an alarm bell inside me. 'slow down! Danger!' Even when the attraction is strongest, I am on my guard.

I was comfortable in all, I admit, but at the same time, nothing satisfied me. Each joy made me seek another.

The real 19th century prophet was Dostoevsky, not Karl Marx.

I was absent at the moment I took up the most space.

Those who weep for the happy periods which they encounter in history acknowledge what they want; not the alleviation but the silencing of misery.

The struggle to reach the top is itself enough to fulfill the heart of man. One must believe that Sisyphus is happy.