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

Nothingness haunts Being.

I do not feel that I am the product of chance, a speck of dust in the universe, but someone who was expected, prepared, prefigured. In short, a being whom only a Creator could put here; and this idea of a creating hand refers to God.

The absurd man will not commit suicide; he wants to live, without relinquishing any of his certainty, without a future, without hope, without illusions … and without resignation either. He stares at death with passionate attention and this fascination liberates him. He experiences the “divine irresponsibility” of the condemned man.

Words are loaded pistols.

Existence precedes and rules essence.

We do not judge the people we love.