All writing is garbage. People who come out of nowhere to try and put into words any part of what goes on in their minds are pigs.

If our life lacks a constant magic it is because we choose to observe our acts and lose ourselves in consideration of their imagined form and meaning, instead of being impelled by their force.

Destroy yourselves, you who are desperate, and you who are tortured in body and soul, abandon all hope. There is no more solace for you in this world. The world lives off your rotting flesh.

Actors are athletes of the heart.

How hard is it, when everything encourages us to sleep, though we may look about us with conscious, clinging eyes, to wake and yet look about us as in a dream, with eyes that no longer know their function and whose gaze is turned inward.

Don't tire yourself more than need be, even at the price of founding a culture on the fatigue of your bones.

Without sarcasm I sink into chaos.