It is fateful and ironic how the lie we need in order to live dooms us to a life that is never really ours.

Love is the problem of an animal who must find life, create a dialogue with nature in order to experience his own being.

If everyone lives roughly the same lies about the same thing, there is no one to call them liars. They jointly establish their own sanity and themselves normal.

Love is the problem of an animal.

People create the reality they need in order to discover themselves

To live fully is to live with an awareness of the rumble of terror that underlies everything.

The man of knowledge in our time is bowed down under a burden he never imagined he would ever have: the overproduction of truth that cannot be consumed.