I had spent my time counterfeiting eternity.

But [your crime] will be there, one hundred times denied, always there, dragging itself behind you. Then you will finally know that you have committed your life with one throw of the die, once and for all, and there is nothing you can do but tug our crime along until your death. Such is the law, just and unjust, of repentance. Then we will see what will become of your young pride.

Philosophy which does not help to illuminate the process of the liberation of the oppressed should be rejected.

A pale reflection of myself wavers in my consciousness...and suddenly the “I” pales, pales, and fades out.

A writer must refuse to allow himself to be transformed into an institution, even if it takes place in the most honorable form.

What then did you expect when you unbound the gag that muted those black mouths? That they would chant your praises? Did you think that when those heads that our fathers had forcibly bowed down to the ground were raised again, you would find adoration in their eyes?

Man is what he wills himself to be.