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

It's perfectly obvious that somebody's responsible and somebody's innocent. Otherwise it [justice] makes no sense at all.

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.

I think the family is the place where the most ridiculous and least respectable things in the world go on.

Is not man himself the most unsettled of all the creatures of the earth? What is this trembling sensation that is intensified with each ascending step in the natural order?

The spontaneity of slaps is sincerity, whereas the ceremonial of caresses is largely convention.

At any given moment, I open my eyes and exist.