Man is not the sum of what he has already, but rather the sum of what he does not yet have, of what he could have.

Man is condemned to be free; because once thrown into the world, he is responsible for everything he does.

Originally, poetry creates the myth, while the prose-writer draws its portrait.

I am alone in this white, garden-rimmed street. Alone and free. But this freedom is rather like death.

We cannot withdraw our cards from the game. Were we as silent and mute as stones, our very passivity would be an act.

Existence is not something which lets itself be thought of form a distance; it must invade you suddenly, master you, weigh heavily on your heart like a great motionless beast - or else there is nothing at all.

We do not judge the people we love.