He loves me, he doesn't love my bowels, if they showed him my appendix in a glass he wouldn't recognize it, he's always feeling me, but if they put the glass in his hands he wouldn't touch it, he wouldn't think, "that's hers," you ought to love all of somebody, the esophagus, the liver, the intestines. Maybe we don't love them because we aren't used to them, but if we saw them the way we saw our hands and arms maybe we'd love them; the starfish must love each other better than we do.

When I can't see myself in the mirror, I can't even feel myself, and I begin to wonder if I exist at all.

One is still what one is going to cease to be and already what one is going to become. One lives one's death, one dies one's life.

Be quiet! Anyone can spit in my face, and call me a criminal and a prostitute. But no one has the right to judge my remorse.

With a little luck that epoch may arrive. I am on the side of those who think that things will go better when the world has changed.

Total war is no longer war waged by all members of one national community against all those of another. It is total... because it may well involve the whole world.

There is only one day left, always starting over: it is given to us at dawn and taken away from us at dusk.