Her eyes stare at me but she seems not to see me; she looks as though she were lost in her suffering. - Jean-Paul Sartre

You complain
because things don't arrange themselves around you like a bouquet of flowers, without your taking the
slightest trouble to do anything. But I have never asked as much: I wanted action. You know, when we
played adventurer and adventuress: you were the one who had adventures, I was the one who made
them happen.

M. de Rollebon was my partner; he needed me in order to exist and I needed him so as not to feel my existence.

Love was not something to be felt, not a particular emotion, nor yet a particular shade of feeling, it was much more like a lowering curse on the horizon, a precursor of disaster.