Only superficial minds approach an idea with delicacy.

You are done for - a living dead man - not when you stop loving but stop hating. Hatred preserves: in it, in its chemistry, resides the mystery of life.

I would like to explode, flow, crumble into dust, and my disintegration would be my masterpiece.

To accomplish nothing and die of the strain

I do not want to see BP nickel and diming these businesses that are having a tough time.

What to think of other people? I ask myself this question each time I make a new acquaintance. So strange does it seem to me that we exist, and that we consent to exist.

He who has never envied the vegetable has missed the human drama.