Even when nothing happens, everything seems too much for me. What can be said, then, in the presence of an event, any event?

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.

A sudden silence in the middle of a conversation suddenly brings us back to essentials: it reveals how dearly we must pay for the invention of speech.

The multiplication of our kind borders on the obscene; the duty to love them, on the preposterous.

What is pity but the vice of kindness.

Better to be an animal than a man, an insect than an animal, a plant than an insect, and so on. Salvation? Whatever diminishes the kingdom of consciousness and compromises its supremacy.

Losing love is so rich a philosophical ordeal that it makes a hairdresser into a rival of Socrates.