Sometimes I wonder if suicides aren't in fact sad guardians of the meaning of life.

Drama assumes an order. If only so that it might have - by disrupting that order - a way of surprising.

The cliche organizes life; it expropriates people's identity; it becomes ruler, defense lawyer, judge, and the law.

Without the constantly living and articulated eperience of absurdity, there would be no reason to attempt to do something meaningful. And on the contrary, how …

Death is always and under all circumstances a tragedy, for if it is not, then it means that life itself has become one.

Is there life before death? That's chalked up In Ballymurphy. Competence with pain, Coherent miseries, a bite and a sup, We hug our little destiny again.

Ivan Ilych's life had been most simple and most ordinary and therefore most terrible.