He is betrayed by the cynical sparkle of her eyes, by her sophisticated look. Real ladies do not know the price of things, they like adorable follies; their eyes are like beautiful, hothouse flowers.
My existence began to worry me seriously. Was I not a simple spectre?
I am not your king, impudent larva? Who then has created you? You. But you should not have created me free.
Every existing thing is born without reason, prolongs itself out of weakness, and dies by chance.
Perhaps it was a passing moment of madness after all. There is no trace of it any more. My odd feelings of the other week seem to me quite ridiculous today: I can no longer enter into them.
All men are Prophets or else God does not exist.
The poor don't know that their function in life is to exercise our generosity.
Every age has its own poetry in every age the circumstances of history choose a nation, a race, a class to take up the torch by creating situations that can be expressed or transcended only through po...
[E]very man ought to say to himself, Am I really the kind of man who has the right to act in such a way that humanity might guide itself by my actions?
Il n'y a de réalité que dans l'action.(There is no reality except in action.)
Everything has been figured out, except how to live.
Why do you keep maintaining your ideas are right if you can't prove them?
Only the guy who isn't rowing has time to rock the boat.
I murmur: It's a seat, a little like an exorcism. But the word stays on my lips: it refuses to go and put itself on the thing. It stays what it is, with its red plush, thousands of little red paws in...
I can always choose, but I ought to know that if I do not choose, I am still choosing.
For an occurrence to become an adventure, it is necessary and sufficient for one to recount it.
Something has happened to me, I can't doubt it any more. It came as an illness does, not like an ordinary certainty, not like anything evident. It came cunningly, little by little; I felt a little str...
He takes a few dazed steps, the waiters turn out the lights and he slips into unconsciousness: when this man is lonely he sleeps.
But no: he was empty, he was confronted by a vast anger, a desperate anger, he saw it and could almost have touched it. But it was inert - if it were to live and find expression and suffer, he must le...
Acting is a question of absorbing other people's personalities and adding some of your own experience.