The mind is the result of the torments the flesh undergoes or inflicts upon itself.
Lucidity's task: to attain a correct despair, an Olympian ferocity.
Time is heavy sometimes; imagine how heavy eternity must be.
What strangely enchanted tunes gush forth during those sleepless nights!
Our place is somewhere between being and nonbeing - between two fictions.
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.