There are plagues, and there are victims, and it's the duty of good men not to join forces with the plagues.

The absurd is essentially a divorce. It lies in neither of the elements compared; it is born of their confrontation.

The most knowledgeable person in one domain may be the most ignorant in another.

The act of love . . . is a confession. Selfishness screams aloud, vanity shows off, or else true generosity reveals itself.

... man has an idea of a better world than this. But better does not mean different, it means unified... Religion or crime, every human endeavor in fact, finally obeys this unreasonabledesire and claims to give life a form it does not have.

And then came human beings; humans wanted to cling but there was nothing to cling to.

The more I produce, the less I am certain. On the road along which the artist walks, night falls ever more densely. Finally, he dies blind.