“Here I am...wanting to accomplish something and completely forgetting it must all end--that there is such a thing as death.”

“I work, I want to do something, but I had forgotten it must all end; I had forgotten--death.”

“Here I am alive, and it's not my fault, so I have to try and get by as best I can without hurting anybody until death takes over.”

“How often we sin, how much we deceive, and all for what?... All will end in death, all!”

“I must ask what it is you want of me?""What can I want? All I can want is that you should not desert me, as you think of doing," she said, understanding all he had not uttered. "But that I don't want; that's secondary. I want love, and there is none. So then all is over.”

“Everything ends in death, everything. Death is terrible.”

“There was no solution, but that universal solution which life gives to all questions, even the most complex and insoluble. That answer is: one must live in the needs of the day—that is, forget oneself. To forget himself in sleep was impossible now, at least till nighttime; he could not go back now to the music sung by the decanter-women; so he must forget himself in the dream of daily life.”