Absurd, irreducible; nothing — not even a profound and secret delirium of nature — could explain it. Obviously I did not know everything, I had not seen the seeds sprout, or the tree grow. But faced with this great wrinkled paw, neither ignorance nor knowledge was important: the world of explanations and reasons is not the world of existence. A circle is not absurd, it is clearly explained by the rotation of a straight segment around one of its extremities. But neither does a circle exist. This root, on the other hand, existed in such a way that I could not explain it.

It’s the well-behaved children that make the most formidable revolutionaries. They don’t say a word, they don’t hide under the table, they eat only one piece of chocolate at a time. But later on, they make society pay dearly.

Ah! How I hate the crimes of the new generation: they are dry and sterile as darnel.

Words are loaded pistols.

A man is involved in life, leaves his impress on it, and outside of that there is nothing.

I have always been happy. Even if I had been more honest with regard to myself at that moment I should still have written La Nausee.

I admire [Samuel] Beckett, but I am totally against him. He seeks no improvement.