Triumph Cannot Help Being Cruel.

The Common Man, Finding Himself In A World So Excellent, Technically And Socially, Believes It Has Been Produced By Nature, And Never Thinks Of The Personal Efforts Of Highly Endowed Individuals Which The Creation Of This New World Presupposed. Still Less Will He Admit The Notion That All These Facilities Still Require The Support Of Certain Difficult Human Virtues, The Least Failure Of Which Would Cause The Rapid Disappearance Of The Whole Magnificent Edifice.

What, By A Word Lacking Even In Grammar, Is Called Amorality, Is A Thing That Does Not Exist. If You Are Unwilling To Submit To Any Norm, You Have, Nolens Volens , To Submit To The Norm Of Denying All Morality, And This Is Not Amoral, But Immoral. It Is A Negative Morality Which Preserves The Empty Form Of The Other.

Since Love Is The Most Delicate And Total Act Of A Soul, It Will Reflect The State And Nature Of The Soul.

The Difficulties Which I Meet With In Order To Realize My Existence Are Precisely What Awaken And Mobilize My Activities, My Capacities.

The Metaphor Is Perhaps One Of Man's Most Fruitful Potentialities. Its Efficacy Verges On Magic, And It Seems A Tool For Creation Which God Forgot Inside One Of His Creatures When He Made Him. All Our Faculties Keep Us Within The Realm Of The Real, Of What Is Already There. The Most We Can Do Is To Combine Things Or Break Them Up. The Metaphor Alone Furnishes An Escape; Between The Real Things, It Lets Emerge Imaginary Reefs, A Crop Of Floating Islands.