Because we can imagine, we are free.

A Soviet citizen, an official writer, once said to me: "The day when Communism (that is, well-being for everyone) reigns, man's tragedy will begin: his finitude."

Criticism often takes from the tree caterpillars and blossoms together.

It is too early to love. We will buy the right to do so by shedding blood.

Imagination is not an empirical or superadded power of consciousness, it is the whole of consciousness as it realizes its freedom.

I think that is the big danger in keeping a diary: you exaggerate everything.

At that time [1954], as a result of political events, I was deeply preoccupied by my relations with the Communist Party.