I should wish [Alain Robbe-Grillet] to realize that Guinea exists.

What is life but an unpleasant interruption to a peaceful nonexistence.

There is no love apart from the deeds of love; no potentiality of love other than that which is manifested in loving.

Uncalled-for aggression arouses the hatred of the civilian population.

All I can do is make the best of what I am, become accustomed to it, evaluate the possibilities, and take advantage of them the best I can.

Something begins in order to end: an adventure doesn't let itself be extended it achieves significance only through its death.

I think [Alain Robbe-Grillet] a good writer, but he speaks to the comfortable bourgeoisie.