Men use one another to assure their personal victory over death.

Relationship is thus always slavery of a kind, which leaves a residue of guilt.

Love is the problem of an animal.

I think that taking life seriously means something such as this: that whatever man does on this planet has to be done in the lived truth of the terror of creation, of the grotesque, of the rumble of panic underneath everything. Otherwise it is false. Whatever is achieved must be achieved with the full exercise of passion, of vision, of pain, of fear, and of sorrow. How do we know, that our part of the meaning of the universe might not be a rhythm in sorrow?

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

War is a sociological safety valve that cleverly diverts popular hatred for the ruling classes into a happy occasion to mutilate or kill foreign enemies.

Genuine heroism for man is still the power to support contradictions, no matter how glaring or hopeless they may seem.