Drama lies in extreme exaggeration of the feelings, an exaggeration that dislocates flat everyday reality.

We have not the time to take our time.

I'll never waste my dreams by falling asleep. Never again.

I have no other pictures of the world apart from those which express evanescence, and callousness, vanity and anger, emptiness, orhideous useless hate. Everything has merely confirmed what I had seen and understood in my childhood: futile and sordid fits of rage, cries suddenly blanketed by the silence, shadows swallowed up for ever by the night.

We are all looking for something of extraordinary importance whose nature we have forgotten; I am writing the memoirs of a man who has lost his memory.

The end of childhood is when things cease to astonish us. When the world seems familiar, when one has got used to existence, one has become an adult.

It's not a certain society that seems ridiculous to me, it's mankind.