We are condemned to live together.

Suffering gives us no special rights.

Once one's up against it, the precise manner of one's death has obviously small importance.

My dear friend, we mustn't give them even the slightest excuse to judge us! Otherwise, we end up in pieces.

The desire for possession is insatiable, to such a point that it can survive even love itself. To love, therefore, is to sterilize the person one loves.

I have no friends, I only have accomplices now. On the other hand, my accomplices are more numerous than my friends: they are the human race.

This absurd, godless world is, then, peopled with men who think clearly and have ceased to hope. And I have not yet spoken of the most absurd character, who is the creator.