There Is Something Indecent In Words .

Waiting Is Still An Occupation. It Is Having Nothing To Wait For That Is Terrible.

Reality Is A Prison, Where One Vegetates And Always Will. All The Rest - Thought, Action - Is Just A Pastime, Mental Or Physical. What Counts Then, Is To Come To Grips With Reality. The Rest Can Go.

The Whole Problem Of Life, Then, Is This: How To Break Out Of One's Own Loneliness, How To Communicate With Others.

Suicides Are Timid Murderers. Masochism Instead Of Sadism.

How Can You Have Confidence In A Woman Who Will Not Risk Entrusting Her Whole Life To You, Day And Night?