Intelligence flourishes only in the ages when belief withers.

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

Once you see that everything is unreal, you can't see why you should bother to prove it.

To exist is equivalent to an act of faith, a protest against the truth, an interminable prayer. As soon as they consent to live, the unbeliever and the man of faith are fundamentally the same, since both have made the only decision that defines a being.

Only superficial minds approach an idea with delicacy.

Impossible to spend sleepless nights and accomplish anything: if, in my youth, my parents had not financed my insomnias, I should surely have killed myself.

Woes and wonders of power, that tonic hell, synthesis of poison and panacea.