No one ever lacks a good reason for suicide.

When writing poetry, it is not that produces a bright idea, but the bright idea that kindles the fire of.

All sins have their origin in a sense of inferiority otherwise called ambition.

If it were possible to have a life absolutely free from every feeling of sin, what a terrifying vacuum it would be.

Suffering is by no means a privilege, a sign of nobility, a reminder of God. Suffering is a fierce, bestial thing, commonplace, uncalled for, natural as air. It is intangible; no one can grasp it or fight against it; it dwells in time - is the same thing as time; if it comes in fits and starts, that is only so as to leave the sufferer more defenseless during the moments that follow, those long moments when one relives the last bout of torture and waits for the next.

A corpse is what's left after waking too often.

The richness of life lies in memories we have forgotten.