The old world is dying, and the new world struggles to be born; now is the time of monsters

Pessimism of the spirit; optimism of the will.

Driving forward is the chief characteristic of western man since the Sumerians. His dread triad of vices is property-holding, voraciousness, and lust.

The challenge of modernity is to live without illusions and without becoming disillusioned.

How many times have I wondered if it is really possible to forge links with a mass of people when one has never had strong feelings for anyone, not even one's own parents: if it is possible to have a collectivity when one has not been deeply loved oneself by individual human creatures. Hasn't this had some effect on my life as a militant--has it not tended to make me sterile and reduce my quality as a revolutionary by making everything a matter of pure intellect, of pure mathematical calculation?

The old is dying and the new cannot be born. In this interregnum there arises a great diversity of morbid symptoms.

What are the "maximum" limits of acceptance of the term "intellectual"?