When I was young, I expected from people more than they could give: neverending friendship and constant excitement. Now I expect less than they can actually can give: to stay close silently. And their feelings, friendship, noble deeds always seem like a miracle to me: a true grace.

Camus himself described this work as 'an attempt to understand the time I live in'.

To two men living the same number of years, the world always provides the same sum of experiences. It is up to us to be conscious of them.

Nobody realizes that some people expend tremendous energy merely to be normal.

Finally, and most of all, words failed him.

The world is never quiet, even its silence eternally resounds with the same notes, in vibrations which escape our ears. As for those that we perceive, they carry sounds to us, occasionally a chord, never a melody.

There can be no true goodness, nor true love, without the utmost clear-sightedness.