The insatiable thirst for everything that lies beyond, and that life reveals, is the most living proof of our immortality.

Imagination is the queen of truth, and possibility is one of the regions of truth. She is positively akin to infinity.

Remembering is only a new form of suffering.

By nature, by necessity itself, [primitive man] is encyclopedic, while civilized man finds himself confined in the infinitely small regions of specialization.

I have cultivated my hysteria with delight and terror. Now I suffer continually from vertigo, and today, 23rd of January, 1862, I have received a singular warning, I have felt the wind of the wing of madness pass over me.

The immense profundity of thought in vulgar locutions, like holes dug by generations of ants.

To the solemn graves, near a lonely cemetery, my heart like a muffled drum is beating funeral marches.