To insure the adoration of a theorem for any length of time, faith is not enough, a police force is needed as well.
Every artist preserves deep within him a single source from which, throughout his lifetime, he draws what he is, and what he says. When the source dries up, the work withers and crumbles.
If the descent is thus sometimes performed in sorrow, it can also take place in joy.
In Oran, as elsewhere, for want of time and thought, people have to love one another without knowing it.
Sometimes, carrying on, just carrying on, is the superhuman achievement.
Ah! my friend, for whomever is alone, without a god and without a master, the weight of time is terrible. One must then choose a master, God being out of style.
Likewise and during every day of an unillustrious life, time carries us. But a moment always comes when we have to carry it.
One cannot be a part-time nihilist.
When one has extensively pondered about men, as a career or as a vocation, one sometimes feels nostalgic for primates. At least they do not have ulterior motives.
But sometimes it takes more courage to live than to shoot yourself.
It takes time to live. Like any work of art, life needs to be thought about.
Beauty is unbearable, drives us to despair, offering us for a minute the glimpse of an eternity that we should like to stretch out over the whole of time.
If, after all, men cannot always make history have a meaning, they can always act so that their own lives have one.
I had only a little time left and I didn't want to waste it on God.
Only it takes time to be happy. A lot of time. Happiness, too, is a long patience.
They knew now that if there is one thing one can always yearn for, and sometimes attain, it is human love.