To live entirely without a goal! I have glimpsed this state, and have often attained it, without managing to remain there: I am too weak for such happiness.

We would not be interested in human beings if we did not have the hope of someday meeting someone worse off than ourselves.

The more one has suffered, the less one demands. To protest is a sign one has traversed no hell.

We understand God by everything in ourselves that is fragmentary, incomplete, and inopportune.

There is no limit to suffering.

Insomnia is a vertiginous lucidity that can convert paradise itself into a place of torture.

Utopia is the grotesque en rose, the need to associate happiness - that is, the improbable - with becoming, and to coerce an optimistic, aerial vision to the point where it rejoins its own source: the very cynicism it sought to combat. In short, a monstrous fantasy.