For an occurrence to become an adventure, it is necessary and sufficient for one to recount it.

We only become what we are by the radical and deep-seated refusal of that which others have made of us.

I'd come to realize that all our troubles spring from our failure to use plain, clear-cut language.

Philosophy appears to some people as a homogenous milieu: there thoughts are born and die, there systems are built, and there, in turn, they collapse. Others take Philosophy for a specific attitude which we can freely adopt at will. Still others see it as a determined segment of culture. In our view Philosophy does not exist.

My thought is me: that's why I can't stop. I exist because I think… and I can't stop myself from thinking. At this very moment - it's frightful - if I exist, it is because I am horrified at existing. I am the one who pulls myself from the nothingness to which I aspire.

The universe remains dark. We are animals struck by catastrophe.

You must be like me; you must suffer in rhythm.