There is but one truly serious philosophical problem and that is suicide.

They knew now that if there is one thing one can always yearn for, and sometimes attain, it is human love.

I felt as though I was partly unlearning what i had never learned and yet knew so well: I mean, how to live.

Yes, and when the love of life disappears, no meaning can console us.

Nothing is more despicable than respect based on fear.

What more ghastly image can be called up than that of a man betrayed by his body who, simply because he did not die in time, lives out the comedy while awaiting the end, face to face with that God he does not adore, serving him as he served life, kneeling before a void and arms outstretched toward a heaven without eloquence that he knows to be also without depth?

Where would his torture be, indeed, if at every step the hope of succeeding upheld him?