This divorce between man and his life, the actor and his setting, is properly the feeling of absurdity.

We [writers] must know that we can never escape the common misery and that our only justification, if indeed there is a justification, is to speak up, insofar as we can, for those who cannot do so.

There will be no lasting peace either in the heart of individuals or in social customs until death is outlawed.

But in order to speak about all and to all, one has to speak of what all know and of the reality common to us all. The seas, rains, necessity, desire, the struggle against death--these are things that unite us all. We resemble one another in what we see together, in what we suffer together. Dreams change from individual, but the reality of the world is common to us all. Striving towards realism is therefore legitimate, for it is basically related to the artistic adventure.

The society based on production is only productive, not creative.

I was comfortable in all, I admit, but at the same time, nothing satisfied me. Each joy made me seek another.

I am alive again, now that I can no longer stand to live.