A self-respecting man is a man without a country. A fatherland is birdlime.

For a long time—always, in fact—I have known that life here on earth is not what I needed and that I wasn’t able to deal with it; for this reason and for this reason alone, I have acquired a touch of spiritual pride, so that my existence seems to me the degradation and the erosion of a psalm.

I would like to explode, flow, crumble into dust, and my disintegration would be my masterpiece.

The importance of insomnia is so colossal that I am tempted to define man as the animal who cannot sleep. Why call him a rational animal when other animals are equally reasonable? But there is not another animal in the entire creation that wants to sleep yet cannot.

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.

What strangely enchanted tunes gush forth during those sleepless nights!

For you who no longer possess it, freedom is everything, for us who do, it is merely an illusion.