He is always becoming, and if it were not for the contingency of death, he would never end.

When the rich [and politically powerful] make war, it's the poor [and politically weak] who die.

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

So that is what hell is. I would never have believed it. You remember: the fire and brimstone, the torture. Ah! the farce. There is no need for torture: Hell is other people.

All human actions are equivalent... and all are on principle doomed to failure.

A madman's ravings are absurd in relation to the situation in which he finds himself, but not in relation to his madness.

Man is condemned to be free