I only believe in fire. Life. Fire. Being myself on fire I set others on fire. Never death. Fire and life.
Ordinary life does not interest me.
When one is pretending the entire body revolts.
The possession of knowledge does not kill the sense of wonder and mystery. There is always more mystery.
myself ... is merely an instrument to connect life and a myth
I had been struck by the analogy between neurosis and romanticism. Romanticism was truly a parallel to neurosis. It demanded of reality an illusory world, love, an absolute which it could never obtain, and thus destroyed itself by the dream.