Beneath a mask of selfish tranquility nothing exists except bitterness and boredom. I am one of those whom suffering has made empty and frivolous: each night in my dreams I pull the scab off a wound; each day, vacuous and habit-ridden, I help it re-form.

Doing is overrated, and success undesirable, but the bitterness of failure even more so.

The disasters of the world are due to its inhabitants not being able to grow old simultaneously. There is always a raw and intolerant nation eager to destroy the tolerant and mellow.

Like the bee its sting, the promiscuous leave behind them in each encounter something of themselves by which they are made to suffer.

From now on - specialize; never again make any concession to the ninety-nine percent of you which is like everyon else at the expense of the one percent which is unique.

Whom the gods wish to destroy they first call promising.

The secret of success is to be in harmony with existence, to be always calm to let each wave of life wash us a little farther up the shore.