He who hates himself is not humble.
I am like a broken puppet whose eyes have fallen inside.
Sometimes I wish I were a cannibal – less for the pleasure of eating someone than for the pleasure of vomiting him.
A distant enemy is always preferable to one at the gate.
The multiplication of our kind borders on the obscene; the duty to love them, on the preposterous.
In most cases we attach ourselves to in order to take revenge on life, to punish it, to signify we can do without it, that we have found something better, and we also attach ourselves to God in horror of men.