Jealousy - that jumble of secret worship and ostensible aversion.
What surrounds us we endure better for giving it a name - and moving on.
We are afraid of the enormity of the possible.
What would be left of our tragedies if an insect were to present us his?
Our first intuitions are the true ones.
Woes and wonders of Power, that tonic hell, synthesis of poison and panacea.
Life is possible only by the deficiencies of our imagination and memory.
Intelligence flourishes only in the ages when belief withers.
The desire to die was my one and only concern to it I have sacrificed everything, even death.
Crime in full glory consolidates authority by the sacred fear it inspires.
Music is the refuge of souls ulcerated by happiness.
For you who no longer posses it, freedom is everything, for us who do, it is merely an illusion.
Life inspires more dread than death - it is life which is the great unknown.
Society is not a disease, it is a disaster. What a stupid miracle that one can live in it.
What does the future, that half of time, matter to the man who is infatuated with eternity?
Isn't history ultimately the result of our fear of boredom?
To Live signifies to believe and hope - to lie and to lie to oneself.
Negation is the mind's first freedom, yet a negative habit is fruitful only so long as we exert ourselves to overcome it, adapt it to our needs once acquired it can imprison us.
The fear of being deceived is the vulgar version of the quest for Truth.
No one can enjoy freedom without trembling.