He was free, free in every way, free to behave like a fool or a machine, free to accept, free to refuse, free to equivocate; to marry, to give up the game, to drag this death weight about with him for years to come. He could do what he liked, no one had the right to advise him, there would be for him no Good or Evil unless he thought them into being.

Little flashes of sun on the surface of a cold, dark sea.

The individual's duty is to do what he wants to do, to think whatever he likes, to be accountable to no one but himself, to challenge every idea and every person.

It answers the question that was tormenting you: my love, you are not 'one thing in my life' - not even the most important - because my life no longer belongs to me because...you are always me.

I am neither virgin nor priest enough to play with the inner life.

Handing over a bank note is enough to make a bicycle belong to me, but my entire life is needed to realize this possession.

Criticism often takes from the tree caterpillars and blossoms together.