That's love, giving everything, sacrificing all without hope of return.

We get into the habit of living before acquiring the habit of thinking.

But what are a hundred million deaths? When one has served in a war, one hardly knows what a dead man is, after a while. And since a dead man has no substance unless one has actually seen him dead, a hundred million corpses broadcast through history are no more than a puff of smoke in the imagination.

Our reason has driven all away. Alone at last, we end up ruling over a desert.

The entire history of mankind is, in any case, nothing but a prolonged fight to the death for the conquest of universal prestige and absolute power.

I always found misogyny vulgar and stupid, and I found almost all the women I have known to be my betters. However, placing them so high, I used them more often than I served them. How does one make sense of this?

Nothing in life is worth, turning your back on, if you love it.