What is certain is that for thinking believers to-day, faith is, before all and above all, wishing that God may exist.

Only he who attempts the absurd is capable of achieving the impossible.

Faith which does not doubt is dead faith.

Spiritual Love is born of sorrow. . . . For men love one another with spiritual love only when they have suffered the same sorrow together, when through long days they have ploughed the stony ground buried beneath the common yoke of a common grief. It is then that they know one another and feel one another and feel with one another in their common anguish, and so they pity one another and love one another.

If a philosopher is not a man, he is anything but a philosopher; he is above all a pedant, and a pedant is a caricature of a man.

These terrible sociologists, who are the astrologers and alchemists of our twentieth century.

If it is nothingness that awaits us, let us make an injustice of it, let us fight against destiny, even without hope of victory.