Stronger than alcohol, vaster than poetry, Ferment the freckled red bitterness of love!

It is wrong to say: I think. One ought to say: I am thought. I is someone else.

I am alone in possessing a key to this barbarous sideshow.

I saw that all beings are fated to happiness: action is not life, but a way of wasting some force, an enervation. Morality is the weakness of the brain.

One evening I sat Beauty on my knees – And I found her bitter – And I reviled her.

The northern lights rise like a kiss to the sea

I could never throw Love out of the window.