Man is nothing else but what he makes of himself.

I have such a desire to sleep and am so much behind my sleep. A good night, one good night and all this nonsense will be swept away.

As if there could be true stories: things happen in one way, and we retell them in the opposite way.

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

If I did not publish this autobiography [Les Mots] sooner and in its most radical form, it is because I considered it exaggerated.

[M]an is condemned to be free. Condemned, because he did not create himself, in other respect is free; because, once thrown into the world, he is responsible for everything he does. The Existentialist does not believe in the power of passion. He will never agree that a sweeping passion is a ravaging torrent which fatally leads a man to certain acts and is therefore an excuse. He thinks that man is responsible for his passion.

What is not possible is not to choose.