Without this ridiculous vanity that takes the form of self-display, and is part of everything and everyone, we would see nothing, and nothing would exist.
My final belief is suffering. And I begin to believe that I do not suffer.
Truth has very few friends and those few are suicides.
When the superficial wearies me, it wearies me so much that I need an abyss in order to rest.
Flowers are without hope. Because hope is tomorrow and flowers have no tomorrow.
My poverty is not complete: it lacks me.