Alone, even doing nothing, you do not waste your time. You do, almost always, in company. No encounter with yourself can be altogether sterile: Something necessarily emerges, even if only the hope of some day meeting yourself again.

I have all the defects of other people yet everything they do seems to me inconceivable.

Who Rebels? Who rises in arms? Rarely the slave, but almost always the oppressor turned slave.

To act is to anchor in the imminent future.

To exist is equivalent to an act of faith, a protest against the truth, an interminable prayer. As soon as they consent to live, the unbeliever and the man of faith are fundamentally the same, since both have made the only decision that defines a being.

What a pity that 'nothingness' has been devalued by an abuse of it made by philosophers unworthy of it!

In order to have the stuff of a tyrant, a certain mental derangement is necessary.