When rich people fight wars with one another, poor people are the ones to die.

Every existing thing is born without reason, prolongs itself out of weakness, and dies by chance.

Man is condemned to be free; because once thrown into the world, he is responsible for everything he does.

I considered calmly that I was born to write.

I had found my religion: nothing seemed more important to me than a book. I saw the library as a temple.

In life man commits himself and draws his own portrait, outside of which there is nothing. No doubt this thought may seem harsh to someone who has not made a success of his life. But on the other hand, it helps people to understand that reality alone counts, and that dreams, expectations and hopes only serve to define a man as a broken dream, aborted hopes, and futile expectations.

This then is the age of reason.