Our works, whatever they may be, derive from our incapacity to kill or to kill ourselves.

Anyone who speaks in the name of others is always an impostor.

Every profound dissatisfaction is of a religious nature: our failures derive from our incapacity to conceive of paradise and to aspire to it, as our discomforts from the fragility of our relations with the absolute.

Losing love is so rich a philosophical ordeal that it makes a hairdresser into a rival of Socrates.

When every man has realized that his birth is a defeat, existence, endurable at last, will seem like the day after a surrender, like the relief and the repose of the conquered.

Freedom can be manifested only in the void of beliefs, in the absence of axioms, and only where the laws have no more authority than a hypothesis.

The refutation of suicide: is it not inelegant to abandon a world which has so willingly put itself at the service of our melancholy?