Even in the game there lurks a lack of freedom; even in a game is a trap for the players.

This symmetrical composition--the same motif at the beginning and at the end--may seem quite "novelistic" to you, and I am willing to agree, but only on condition that you refrain from reading such notions as "fictive," "fabricated," and "untrue to life" into the word "novelistic." Because human lives are composed in precisely such a fashion.

When a private talk over a bottle of wine is broadcast on the radio, what can it mean but that the world is turning into a concentration camp?

True human goodness, in all its purity and freedom, can come to the fore only when its recipient has no power.

Love is a desire for that lost half of ourselves.

No love can survive muteness.

Fidelity gives a unity to lives that would otherwise splinter into thousands of split-second impressions.