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?

Normal people have nothing to forget.

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

Ennui is the echo in us of time tearing itself apart.

Shame on the man who goes to his grave escorted by the miserable hopes that have kept him alive.

What pride to discover that nothing belongs to you - what a revelation.

If there is anyone who owes everything to Bach, it is certainly God.