| Link | Quote | Stars | Tags | Author |
| 256aecf | Love or hatred calls for self-surrender. He cuts a fine figure, the warm-blooded, prosperous man, solidly entrenched in his well-being, who one fine day surrenders all to love--or to hatred; himself, his house, his land, his memories. | love orestes the-flies surrender | Jean-Paul Sartre | |
| 752d438 | Good digestions, the gray monotony of provincial life, and the boredom--ah the soul-destroying boredom--of long days of mild content. | the-flies zeus mundane | Jean-Paul Sartre | |
| 5fa1e83 | The first crime was mine: I committed it when I made man mortal. Once I had done that, what was left for you, poor human murderers, to do? To kill your victims? But they already had the seed of death in them; all you could do was to hasten its fruition by a year or two. | murder the-flies zeus | Jean-Paul Sartre |