When you have understood that nothing is, that things do not even deserve the status of appearances, you no longer need to be saved, you are saved, and miserable forever.

The Art of Love: knowing how to combine the temperament of a vampire with the discretion of an anemone.

What every man who loves his country hopes for in his inmost heart: the suppression of half his compatriots.

He who hates himself is not humble.

The more we try to rest ourselves from our Egos, the deeper we sink into it.

This very second has vanished forever, lost in the anonymous mass of the irrevocable. It will never return. I suffer from this and I do not. Everything is unique - and insignificant.

Every thought derives from a thwarted sensation.