It is a restful, tragedy because one knows that there is no more lousy hope left. You know you're caught, caught at last like a rat with all the world on its back. And the only thing left to do is shout.

I like reality. It tastes of bread.

There will always be a lost dog somewhere that will prevent me from being happy.

The only immorality is not to do when one hast to do it.

Nobody has a more sacred obligation to obey the law than those who make the law.

Until the day of his death, no man can be sure of his courage.

Life’s not what you think. It’s like water – the young let it slip through their fingers without thinking. Shut your hands, Antigone, shut them tight and hold it back. You’ll see – it’ll turn into something small and hard that you can sit and munch in the sun.

What will my happiness be like? What kind of happy woman will Antigone grow into? What base things will she have to do, day after day, in order to snatch her own little scrap of happiness? Tell me – who will she have to lie to? Smile at? Sell herself to? Who will she have to avert her eyes from, and leave to die?

What fun it would be to be poor, as long as one was excessively poor! Anything in excess is most exhilarating.

We have found other terms far less vague than the old ones to designate the same complaints. It’s a great advance linguistically.