My thought is me: that's why I can't stop. I exist because I think… and I can't stop myself from thinking. At this very moment - it's frightful - if I exist, it is because I am horrified at existing. I am the one who pulls myself from the nothingness to which I aspire.

[Contemporary writer] could be a kind of [Samuel] Beckett who would not be felt to be totally committed to despair.

I never could bear the idea of anyone's expecting something from me. It always made me want to do just the opposite.

The form [of literature] matters little to me, classical or not.

The existentialist says at once that man is anguish.

Everything comes to us from others. To Be is to belong to someone.

Existence is an imperfection.