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.

I saw that philosophy had no power to make my life more bearable. Thus I lost my belief in philosophy.

No one can do without some semblance of immortality, and even less will they deny themselves the right to seek it out in the form of this or that reputation, starting with the literary... Since death has come to be accepted by all as the absolute end, everyone writes.

Skepticism is the elegance of anxiety.

Nothing is so wearing as the possession or abuse of liberty.

Crime in full glory consolidates authority by the sacred fear it inspires.

Only those moments count, when the desire to remain by yourself is so powerful that you'd prefer to blow your brains out than exchange a word with someone.