Our works, whatever they may be, derive from our incapacity to kill or to kill ourselves.

Wisdom disguises our wounds; it teaches us how to bleed in secret.

We have convictions only if we have studied nothing thoroughly.

A book is a suicide postponed.

As the years pass, the number of those we can communicate with diminishes. When there is no longer anyone to talk to, at last we will be as we were before stooping to a name.

Between the demand to be clear,and the temptation to be obscure, impossible to decide which deserves more respect.

If you're unlucky enough not to have alcoholic parents, it takes you a whole lifetime of intoxication to overcome the dead weight of their virtues.