Ironic philosophies produce passionate works.

I have always felt I lived on the high seas, threatened, at the heart of a royal happiness.

[Paris] is dirty. It has pigeons and black yards. The people have white skin.

But the world itself has no reason, and I can say so, I who have experienced it all, from the creation to the destruction.

Morality, when formal, devours.

They came to know the incorrigible sorrow of all prisoners and exiles, which is to live in company with a memory that serves no purpose.

Absurd- that is the light mind that establishes its own borders.