The revolution you dream of is not ours. You don't want to change the world; you want to blow it up.
When the rich wage war, it's the poor who die.
In Guinea I could read [Franz] Kafka. I re-discover in him my own discomfort.
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.
To know what life is worth you have to risk it once in a while.
Ah! yes, I know: those who see me rarely trust my word: I must look too intelligent to keep it.