No ends, simply means.

When love ceases to be tragic it is something else and the individual again throws himself in search of tragedy.

Crime too is a form of solitude, even if one thousand get together to commit it. And it is right for me to die alone, after having lived and killed alone.

They hurt each other without wanting to, just because each represented to the others the cruel and demanding necessity of their lives.

In our well-policed society we recognize that an illness is serious from the fact that we don't dare speak of it directly.

Happiness is generous. It does not subsist on destruction.

“To think the way you do,” he said smiling, “you have to be a man who lives either on a tremendous despair, or on a tremendous hope.” “On both, perhaps.”