We’re going to die and not even know. We’ll never know, and all this meaninglessness will just go on and on and on. And we won’t any longer be witnesses to it. We won’t have even that little bit of power to give meaning to it in our minds. We’ll just be gone, dead, dead, dead, without ever knowing!

When you think night and day and every moment only of pleasing me, things will be very easy for you.

Come on, say it again. I'm a perfect devil. Tell me how bad I am. It makes me feel so good!

And I loved this moment for all it's pain...We seemed for a moment like two parts of the same thing.

When we talk about our lives, long or short, brief and tragic or enduring beyond comprehension, we impose a continuity on them, and that continuity is a lie.

… in the relentless and meaningless manner one searches for something in a nightmare, coming on doors that won’t open or drawers that won’t shut, struggling over and over against the same meaningless thing, not knowing why the effort seems so desperate, why the sudden sight of a chair with a shawl thrown over it inspires the mind with horror.

I'm always looking, and I'm always asking questions.