The aphorism is cultivated only by those who have known fear in the midst of words, that fear of collapsing with all the words.

There is not much difference between a mortal man and a dying man. The absurdity of making plans is only slightly more obvious in the second case.

Between Ennui and Ecstasy unwinds our whole experience of time.

I try--without success--to stop finding reasons for vanity in anything. When I happen to manage it nonetheless, I feel that I no longer belong to the mortal gang. I am above everything then, above the gods themselves. Perhaps that is what death is: a sensation of great, of extreme superiority.

Music is the refuge of souls ulcerated by happiness.

What surrounds us we endure better for giving it a name - and moving on.

It is not worth the bother of killing yourself, since you always kill yourself too late.