At times I feel myself overtaken by an immense tenderness for these people around me who live in the same century.

No matter how the sun shone, the sea held forth no more promises.

If you keep on excusing, you eventually give your blessing to the slave camp, to cowardly force, to organized executioners, to the cynicism of great political monsters; you finally hand over your brothers.

There is no sun without shadow, and it is essential to know the night.

At the heart of all beauty lies something inhuman.

Most men are like me. They cannot live in a universe where the most bizarre thought can in one second enter into the realm of reality--where, most often, it does enter, like a knife in a heart.

What did it matter if he existed for two or for twenty years? Happiness was the fact that he had existed.