Time is heavy sometimes; imagine how heavy eternity must be.
Jealousy - that jumble of secret worship and ostensible aversion.
The multiplication of our kind borders on the obscene; the duty to love them, on the preposterous.
Life creates itself in delirium and is undone in ennui.
Read day and night, devour books - these sleeping pills - not to know but to forget! Through books you can retrace your way back to the origins of spleen, discarding history and its illusions.
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.