Only superficial minds approach an idea with delicacy.

The fear of being deceived is the vulgar version of the quest for Truth.

Anyone who speaks in the name of others is always an impostor.

A garbled quotation is equivalent to a betrayal, an insult, a prejudice.

One cannot live without motives. I have no motives left, and I am living.

No one recovers from the disease of being born, a deadly wound if there ever was one.

As far as I am concerned, I resign from humanity. I no longer want to be, nor can still be, a man. What should I do? Work for a social and political system, make a girl miserable? Hunt for weaknesses in philosophical systems, fight for moral and esthetic ideals? It’s all too little. I renounce my humanity even though I may find myself alone. But am I not already alone in this world from which I no longer expect anything?