[…] I confess that more and more suicide loses its sinfulness to me. Killing oneself can be courageous; not killing oneself, because you wish to lose nothing, even the worst that life has to off, can also be courageous. Since I live near the Seine, I have seen many people jump into the river in front of my windows.

[…] the more life is what it is – ordinary, simple – without pronouncing the word 'God', the more I see the presence of God in that. I don't know how to explain that.

[…] For myself, there is something which makes suicide possible – not even possible but absolutely necessary: it is the vision of void, the feeling of void which is impossible to bear. You want anything to stop your life. […] But this way of wanting to die is many things: it is a disgust with life, with people around you, with living only for money. To see everything which is good to lvie for disappear, when you see that you cannot fall into love with people, not only with a woman, but all the people around you, you find yourself alone with people. I can imagine living in disgust with so many things which are against you around you, and then you feel like suicide.

[…] I think in the whole world things are going very badly. People are becoming more and more materialistic and cruel, but cruel in another way than in the Middle Ages. Cruel by laziness, by indifference, egotism, because they think only about themselves and not at all about what is happening around them, so that they let everything  grow ugly, stupid. They are all interested in money only. Money is becoming their God. God doesn't exist anymore for many. Money is becoming something you must live for. You know, even your astronauts, the first one who put his foot on the moon, said that when he saw our earth, he said it is something so miraculous, so marvellous, don't spoil it, don't touch it. More deeply I feel the rotten way they are spoiling the earth. All the countries. Silence doesn't exist any more; you can't find it. That, for me, would make it impossible to live. The way this young person [in The Devil, Probably] wants to die – he doesn't kill himself, himself – he makes himself be killed. The old Robin Hood people used to commit suicide with the help of friends. He kills himself for a big purpose.

[…] Vigour comes from precision. Precision is vigorous. When I am working poorly, I am imprecise. Precision is another form of poetry.

Robert Bresson, interviewed [He's speaking in English, except in the last paragraph.]