Who cares about great marks left behind? We have one life... just one. Our life. We have nothing else.
There is always a certain peace in being what one is, in being that completely.
To believe in God is to know that all the rules will be fair, and that there will be wonderful surprises.
Everyone has, inside himself ... what shall I call it? A piece of good news! Everyone is ... a very great, very important character.
When you want to believe in something, you also have to believe in everything that's necessary for believing in it.
It so difficult to know what the people we love really need.
Memories are like stones, time and distance erode them like acid.
Behind everything we feel, there is always a sense of fear.
At any given moment, I open my eyes and exist.
I think the family is the place where the most ridiculous and least respectable things in the world go on.
All of us are mad. If it weren't for the fact that every one of us is slightly abnormal, there wouldn't be any point in giving each person a separate name.
Every tiny part of us cries out against the idea of dying, and hopes to live forever.
Justice! Custodian of the world! But since the world errs, justice must be custodian of the world's errors.
If we have anything kind to say, any tender sentiment to express, we feel a sense of shame.
Each of us is the only person who can give the other what each of us wants to have: Peace.
Nobody is bound by any obligation unless it has first been freely accepted.
Murderers, in general, are people who are consistent, people who are obsessed with one idea and nothing else.
We cannot bear to regard ourselves simply as playthings of blind chance, we cannot admit to feeling ourselves abandoned.
When I say "I," I mean a thing absolutely unique, not to be confused with any other.
The first temptation, upon meeting an old friend after many years, is always to - look the other way.
Killing time is the chief end of our society.
Nature is honest, we aren't; we embalm our dead.
When you put a man and a woman together, there are some things they simply have to do. They embrace, they warm each other. All the rest is dead and empty.
The spontaneity of slaps is sincerity, whereas the ceremonial of caresses is largely convention.
There is no forgiveness in nature.
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