In order to understand the world, one has to turn away from it on occasion.

...the play of the toughest and most lucid mind are at the same time both lavished andsquandered.

What made me run away was doubtless not so much the fear of settling down, but of settling down permanently in something ugly.

The real 19th century prophet was Dostoevsky, not Karl Marx.

In a universe suddenly divested of illusion and lights, man feels an alien, a stranger. His exile is without remedy since he is deprived of the memory of a lost home or the hope of a promised land.

I am too far away from what I love and my distance is without remedy.

Art and revolt will die only with the last man.