One Cannot Choose What He Writes -

The Facts Are To Blame, My Friend. We Are All Imprisoned By Facts: I Was Born, I Exist.

I Present Myself To You In A Form Suitable To The Relationship I Wish To Achieve With You.

Here Is A Piece Of Earth. If You Stand Staring At It And Doing Nothing, What Does The Earth Yield? Nothing. Just Like A Woman.

Man Never Reasons So Much And Becomes So Introspective As When He Suffers; Since He Is Anxious To Get At The Cause Of His Sufferings, To Learn Who Has Produced Them, And Whether It Is Just Or Unjust That He Should Have To Bear Them.

Not One Of Us Can Lie Or Pretend. We're All Fixed In Good Faith In A Certain Concept Of Ourselves.