Wisdom disguises our wounds; it teaches us how to bleed in secret.

Nothing proves that we are more than nothing.

The history of ideas is the history of the grudges of solitary men.

Negation is the mind's first freedom, yet a negative habit is fruitful only so long as we exert ourselves to overcome it, adapt it to our needs; once acquired it can imprison us.

The fear of being deceived is the vulgar version of the quest for Truth.

If you're unlucky enough not to have alcoholic parents, it takes you a whole lifetime of intoxication to overcome the dead weight of their virtues.

What to think of other people? I ask myself this question each time I make a new acquaintance. So strange does it seem to me that we exist, and that we consent to exist.