The old ideals are dead as nails--nothing there. It seems to me there remains only this perfect union with a woman--sort of ultimate marriage--and there isn't anything else.

People always make war when they say they love peace.

I like Australia less and less. The hateful newness, the democratic conceit, every man a little pope of perfection.

In masturbation there is nothing but loss.

Oh build your ship of death. Oh build it! For you will need it. For the voyage of oblivion awaits you.

One can no longer live with people: it is too hideous and nauseating. Owners and owned, they are like the two sides of a ghastly disease.

Men and women should stay apart, till their hearts grow gentle towards one another again.