A lost battle is a battle one thinks one has lost.

It is too early to love. We will buy the right to do so by shedding blood.

At that time [1954], as a result of political events, I was deeply preoccupied by my relations with the Communist Party.

So it comes to this; one doesn’t need rest. Why bother about sleep if one isn’t sleepy? That stands to reason, doesn’t it? Wait a minute, there’s a snag somewhere; something disagreeable. Why, now, should it be disagreeable? …Ah, I see; it’s life without a break.

Ah! yes, I know: those who see me rarely trust my word: I must look too intelligent to keep it.

I distrust the incommunicable; it is the source of all violence

I said to myself, 'I want to die decently'.