True confessions are written with tears only. But my tears would drown the world, as my inner fire would reduce it to ashes.

Imaginary pains are by far the most real we suffer, since we feel a constant need for them and invent them because there is no way of doing without them.

Time is heavy sometimes; imagine how heavy eternity must be.

A regret understood by no one: the regret to be a pessimist. It’s not easy to be on the wrong foot with life.

I do not forgive myself for being born. It is as if creeping into this world, I had profaned a mystery, betrayed some momentous pledge, committed a fault of nameless gravity.

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?

Man starts over again everyday, in spite of all he knows, against all he knows.