The wise man, the sage, is hostile to the new. Disabused, he abdicates: that is his form of protest.

Maniacs of Procreation, bipeds with devalued faces, we have lost all appeal for each other.

On Creating — What we crave, what we want to see in others eyes, is that servile expression, an unconcealed infatuation with our gestures.

No one should forget: Eros alone can fulfill life; knowledge, never. Only Eros makes sense; knowledge is empty infinity; – for thoughts, there is always time; life has its time; there is no thought that comes too late; any desire can become a regret.

Every thought derives from a thwarted sensation.

Discretion is deadly to genius; ruinous to talent.

A decadent civilization compromises with its disease, cherishes the virus infecting it, loses its self-respect.