I was escaping from Nature and at last becoming myself, that Other whom I was aspiring to be in the eyes of others.

I do not believe in God; his existence has been disproved by Science. But in the concentration camp, I learned to believe in men.

it was odd, he thought, that a man could hate himself as though he were someone else.

What is boredom? It is when there is simultaneously too much and not enough.

I am going to outlive myself. Eat, sleep, sleep, eat. Exist slowly, softly, like these trees, like a puddle of water, like the red bench in the streetcar.

My thought is me: that's why I can't stop. I exist because I think… and I can't stop myself from thinking. At this very moment - it's frightful - if I exist, it is because I am horrified at existing. I am the one who pulls myself from the nothingness to which I aspire.

No finite point has meaning without an infinite reference point.