Again and again there comes a time in history when the man who dares to say that two and two make four is punished with death. ("The Plague")

I have always thought it would be easier to redeem a man steeped in vice and crime than a greedy, narrow-minded, pitiless merchant.

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

Men who have greatness within them don't go in for politics.

One must imagine Sisyphus happy.

Freedom is nothing but a chance to be better.

Without memories, without hope, they lived for the moment only. indeed, the here and now had come to mean everything to them. For there is no denying that the plague had gradually killed off in all of us the faculty not of love only but even of friendship. Naturally enough, since love asks something of the future, and nothing was left us but a series of present moments.