A man able to think isn't defeated - even when he is defeated.

It does take great maturity to understand that the opinion we are arguing for is merely the hypothesis we favor, necessarily imperfect, probably transitory, which only very limited minds can declare to be a certainty or a truth.

But which was the real me? Let me be perfectly honest: I was a man of many faces. (p.33)

In the sunset of dissolution, everything is illuminated by the aura of nostalgia, even the guillotine.

All novels . . . are concerned with the enigma of the self. As soon as you create an imaginary being, a character, you are automatically confronted by the question: what is the self? How can it be grasped?

You think that just because it's already happened, the past is finished and unchangeable? Oh no, the past is cloaked in multicolored taffeta and every time we look at it we see a different hue.

A man able to think isn't defeated - even when he is defeated.