We cannot consent to be judged by someone who has suffered less than ourselves. And since each of us regards himself as an unrecognized Job.

What would be left of our tragedies if an insect were to present us his?

A regret understood by no one: the regret to be a pessimist. It’s not easy to be on the wrong foot with life.

Ideas come as you walk, Nietzsche said. Walking dissipates thoughts, Shankara taught.

Mind, even more deadly to empires than to individuals, erodes them, compromises their solidity.

Show me one thing here on earth which has begun well and not ended badly. The proudest palpitations are engulfed in a sewer, where they cease throbbing, as though having reached their natural term: this downfall constitutes the heart's drama and the negative meaning of history.

I don’t understand why we must do things in this world, why we must have friends and aspirations, hopes and dreams. Wouldn’t it be better to retreat to a faraway corner of the world, where all its noise and complications would be heard no more? Then we could renounce culture and ambitions; we would lose everything and gain nothing; for what is there to be gained from this world?