Ignorance of the law of irreducibility was no excuse. I could no longer excuse myself with the claim that I didn't know the law -- for knowledge of self and of the world is the law that, even though unattainable, cannot be broken, and no one can excuse himself by saying that he doesn't know it. . . . The renewed originality of the sin is this: I have to carry out my unknowing, I shall be sinning originally against life.

But don't forget, in the meantime, that this is the season for strawberries. Yes.

I' is merely one of the world's instantaneous spasms.

Things were somehow so good that they were in danger of becoming very bad because what is fully mature is very close to rotting

I ask myself: is every story that has ever been written in this world, a story of suffering and affliction?

Who has not asked himself at some time or other: am I a monster or is this what it means to be a person?

I write to save someone's life, probably my own