Little flashes of sun on the surface of a cold, dark sea.

There is a universe behind and before him. And the day is approaching when closing the last book on the last shelf on the far left; he will say to himself, "now what?

Being is. Being is in-itself. Being is what it is.

I found the human heart empty and insipid everywhere except in books.

To know what life is worth you have to risk it once in a while.

As for me, I am mean: that means that I need the suffering of others to exist. A flame. A flame in their hearts. When I am all alone, I am extinguished.

One always dies too soon — or too late. And yet one’s whole life is complete at that moment, with a line drawn neatly under it, ready for the summing up. You are — your life, and nothing else.

As far as men go, it is not what they are that interests me, but what they can become.

The worst part about being lied to is knowing you werent worth the truth

Better a good journalist than a poor assassin.

Man is condemned to be free. Condemned because he did not create himself, yet is nevertheless at liberty, and from the moment he is thrown into this world he is responsible for everything he does.

I had found my religion: nothing seemed more important to me than a book. I saw the library as a temple.

People who live in society have learnt how to see themselves, in mirrors, as they appear to their friends. I have no friends: is that why my flesh is so naked?

Nothing happens while you live. The scenery changes, people come in and go out, that's all. There are no beginnings. Days are tacked on to days without rhyme or reason, an interminable, monotonous addition.

Life has no meaning a priori… It is up to you to give it a meaning, and value is nothing but the meaning that you choose.

I want to leave, to go somewhere where I should be really in my place, where I would fit in . . . but my place is nowhere; I am unwanted.

Like all dreamers I confuse disenchantment with truth.

All that I know about my life, it seems, I have learned in books.

Life begins on the other side of despair.

Life begins on the other side of despair.

Words are loaded pistols.

There may be more beautiful times, but this one is ours.

Everything has been figured out, except how to live.

You are -- your life, and nothing else.