If we have no other reality beyond the illusion, you too must not count overmuch on your reality as you feel it today, since, like that of yesterday, it may prove an illusion for you tomorrow.
As soon as one is born, one starts dying.
Do you believe you can know yourselves if you don't somehow con- struct yourselves? Or that I can know you if I don't construct you in my way? And can you know me if I don't construct you in my way? We can know only what we succeed in giving form to.
When [man] is happy he takes his happiness as it comes and doesn't analyze it, just as if happiness were his right.
Refusing to have an opinion is a way of having one, isn't it?
It is much easier to be a hero than a gentleman.
The secret of living is to find a pivot, the pivot of a concept on which you can make your stand.
When you say you are in love with humanity, you are well satisfied with yourself.
None of us can estimate what we do when we do it from instinct.
Logic is one thing, the human animal another. You can quite easily propose a logical solution to something and at the same time hope in your heart of hearts it won't work out.
We ride through life on the beast within us. Beat the animal, but you can't make it think.
One cannot choose what he writes - one can only choose to face it.
Nature uses human imagination to lift her work of creation to even higher levels.
A fact is like a sack which won't stand up if it's empty. In order that it may stand up, one has to put into it the reason and sentiment which caused it to exist.
The facts are to blame, my friend. We are all imprisoned by facts: I was born, I exist.
If you shut yourself up disdainfully in your ivory tower and insist that you have your own conscience and are satisfied with its approval, it is because you know that everybody is criticizing you, condemning you, or laughing at you.
Whoever has the luck to be born a character can laugh even at death. Because a character will never die! A man will die, a writer, the instrument of creation: but what he has created will never die!
Every true man, sir, who is a little above the level of the beasts and plants does not live for the sake of living, without knowing how to live; but he lives so as to give a meaning and a value of his own to life.
Each of us, face to face with other men, is clothed with some sort of dignity, but we know only too well all the unspeakable things that go on in the heart.
It is misery, you know, unspeakable misery for the man who lives alone and who detests sordid, casual affairs; not old enough to do without women, but not young enough to be able to go and look for one without shame!
THE FATHER: But don't you see that the whole trouble lies here? In words, words. Each one of us has within him a whole world of things, each man of us his own special world. And how can we ever come to an understanding if I put in the words I utter the sense and value of things as I see them; while you who listen to me must inevitably translate them according to the conception of things each one of you has within himself. We think we understand each other, but we never really do.
Each of us when he appears before his fellows is clothed in a certain dignity. But every man knows what unconfessable things pass within the secrecy of his own heart.
Personally, I don't give a rap for documents; for the truth in my eyes is not in them but in the mind.
The more arms and legs [children] we have, the richer we are.
I am an "unrealized" character, dramatically speaking.
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