There is no book of mine that I reject. That does not mean that I find them good.

I considered calmly that I was born to write.

Is there really nothing, nothing left of me?

Existence is prior to essence.

I had spent my time counterfeiting eternity.

[Contemporary writer] could be a kind of [Samuel] Beckett who would not be felt to be totally committed to despair.

Listen to me: a family man is never a real family man. An assassin is never entirely assassin. They play a role, you understand. While a dead man, he is really dead. To be or not to be, right?