When we see life, we call it beautiful. When we see death, we call it ugly. But it is more beautiful still to see oneself living at great speed, right up to the moment of death.

What we need is hatred. From it our ideas are born.

There are mornings when all men experience with fatigue a flush of tenderness that makes them horny.

A great wind swept over the ghetto, carrying away shame, invisibility and four centuries of humiliation. But when the wind dropped people saw it had been only a little breeze, friendly, almost gentle.

First of all, don't mix your hairpins up with mine! You .... Oh! All right, mix your muck with mine. Mix it! Mix your rags with my tatters! Mix it all up.

Violence is a calm that disturbs you.

Crimes of which a people is ashamed constitute its real history. The same is true of man.