There is no forgiveness in nature.

It so difficult to know what the people we love really need.

We know well enough when we're being unjust and despicable. but we don't restrain ourselves because we experience a certain pleasure, a primitive sort of satisfaction in moments like that.

Sisterly love is, of all sentiments, the most abstract. Nature does not grant it any functions.

We cannot bear to regard ourselves simply as playthings of blind chance, we cannot admit to feeling ourselves abandoned.

Killing time is the chief end of our society.

At any given moment, I open my eyes and exist. And before that, during all eternity, what was there? Nothing.