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A symbol always transcends the one who makes use of it and makes him say in reality more than he is aware of expressing.
The human heart has a tiresome tendency to label as fate only what crushes it.
No truth fails to carry with it its bitterness.
And it is true that a certain intensity of life is inseparable from injustice.
For if there is a sin against life, it consists perhaps not so much in despairing of life as in hoping for another life and in eluding the implacable grandeur of this life.
But innocence needs sand and stones. And man has forgotten how to live among them.
It is Christianity that began substituting the tragedy of the soul for contemplation of the world.
With God dead, there remains only history and power.
For there is merely bad luck in not being loved; there is misfortune in not loving. All of us, today, are dying of this misfortune. For violence and hatred dry up the heart itself; the long fight for justice exhausts the love that nevertheless gave birth to it.
