Ironic philosophies produce passionate works.

I looked up at the mass of signs and stars in the night sky and laid myself open for the first time to the benign indifference of the world.

If there is a soul, it is a mistake to believe that it is given to us fully created. It is created here, throughout a whole life. And living is nothing else but that long and painful bringing forth.

So the thing that bothered me most was that the condemned man had to hope the machine would work the first time.

As for Hitler, his professed religion unhesitatingly juxtaposed the God-Providence and Valhalla. Actually his god was an argument at a political meeting and a manner of reaching an impressive climax at the end of speeches.

But what is happiness except the simple harmony between a man and the life he leads?

If one could only say just once: 'this is clear', all would be saved