At the heart of all beauty lies something inhuman.

Man stands face to face with the irrational. He feels within him his longing for happiness and for reason. The absurd is born of this confrontation between the human need and the unreasonable silence of the world.

Of course, true love is exceptional - two or three times a century, more or less. The rest of the time there is vanity or boredom.

False judges are held up in the world's admiration and I alone know the true ones.

When one has no character, one HAS to apply a method. Here it did wonders incontrovertibly, and I am living on the site of one of the greatest crimes in human history.

To live is in itself a value judgment. To breathe is to judge.

We are not certain, we are never certain.