What our age lacks is not reflection, but passion.

With respect to physical existence, one needs little, and to the degree that one needs less, the more perfect one is.

If a man wants to set up as an innkeeper and he does not succeed, it is not comic. If, on the contrary, a girl asks to be allowed to set up as a prostitute and she fails, as sometimes happens, it is comic.

To be a woman is something so strange, so confusing and so complicated that only a woman could put up with it.

Boredom rests upon the nothingness that winds its way through existence; its giddiness, like that which comes from gazing down into an infinite abyss, is infinite.

Everyone looks the same to me in a photograph: stupid.

In the Christianity of Christendom the Cross has become something like the child’s hobby-horse and trumpet.