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

The only free mind is one that, pure of all intimacy with beings or objects, plies its own vacuity.

At this very moment, I am suffering—as we say in French, j’ai mal. This event, crucial for me, is nonexistent, even inconceivable for anyone else, for everyone else. Except for God, if that word can have a meaning.

The fanatic is incorruptible: if he kills for an idea, he can just as well get himself killed for one; in either case, tyrant or martyr, he is a monster.

Each concession we make is accompanied by an inner diminution of which we are not immediately conscious.

All great ideas should be followed by an exclamation mark - a warning signal similar to the skull and crossbones drawn on high-voltage transformers.

I dream of a language whose words, like fists, would fracture jaws.