Only a humanity to whom death has become as indifferent as its members, that has itself died, can inflict it administratively on innumerable people.

The capacity for fear and for happiness are the same, the unrestricted openness to experience amounting to self-abandonment in which the vanquished rediscovers himself.

Happiness is obsolete: uneconomic.

In the abstract conception of universal wrong, all concrete responsibility vanishes.

Love is the power to see similarity in the dissimilar.

The body's habituation to walking as normal stems from the good olddays. It was the bourgeois form of locomotion: physicaldemythologization, free of the spell of hieratic pacing, rooflesswandering, breathless flight. Human dignity insisted on the right towalk, a rhythm not extorted from the body by command or terror. Thewalk, the stroll, were private ways of passing time, the heritage ofthe feudal promenade in the nineteenth century.

Dissonance is the truth about harmony.