One always dies too soon or too late. And yet, life is there, finished: the line is drawn, and it must all be added up. You are nothing other than your life.

I think of death only with tranquility, as an end. I refuse to let death hamper life. Death must enter life only to define it.

I am beginning to believe that nothing can ever be proved. These are honest hypotheses which take the facts into account: but I sense so definitely that they come from me, and that they are simply a way of unifying my own knowledge. Not a glimmer comes from Rollebon's side. Slow, lazy, sulky, the facts adapt themselves to the rigour of the order I wish to give them; but it remains outside of them. I have the feeling of doing a work of pure imagination.

I am alone in this white, garden-rimmed street. Alone and free. But this freedom is rather like death.

your judgement judges you and defines you

I have always been an optimist, perhaps even too much.

Uncalled-for aggression arouses the hatred of the civilian population.