Under each formula lies a corpse.

History is nothing but a procession of false Absolutes, a series of temples raised to pretexts, a degradation of the mind before the Improbable.

God: a disease we imagine we are cured of because no one dies of it nowadays.

We interest others by the misfortune we spread around us.

The obsession with suicide is characteristic of the man who can neither live nor die, and whose attention never swerves from this double impossibility.

No human beings are more dangerous than those who have suffered for a belief

An individual dies ... when, instead of taking risks and hurling himself toward being, he cowers within, and takes refuge there.