“The dead center of existence: when it is all the same to you whether you read a newspaper article or think about God.”

“No matter which way we go, it is no better than any other. It is all the same whether you achieve something or not, have faith or not, just as it is all the same whether you cry or remain silent.”

“You are done for — a living dead man — not when you stop loving but stop hating. Hatred preserves: in it, in its chemistry, resides the mystery of life.”

“God does not read.”

“The poor maidservant who used to say that she only believed in God when she had a toothache puts all theologians to shame.”

“What right have you to pray for me? I need no intercessor, I shall manage alone. The prayers of a wretch I might accept, but no one else’s, not even a saint’s. I cannot bear your bothering about my salvation. If I apprehend salvation and flee it, your prayers are merely an indiscretion. Invest them elsewhere; in any case, we do not serve the same gods. If mine are impotent, there is every reason to believe yours are no less so. Even assuming they are as you imagine them, they would still lack the power to cure me of a horror older than my memory.”

“I foresee the day when we shall read nothing but telegrams and prayers.”