In the great glasshouses streaming with condensation, the children in mourning-dress beheld marvels.
What is my nothingness to the stupor that awaits you?
Je est un autre. (I is someone else).
Life is the farce which everyone has to perform.
The only unbearable thing is that nothing is unbearable.
I turned silences and nights into words. What was unutterable, I wrote down. I made the whirling world stand still.