If each of us were to confess his most secret desire, the one that inspires all his plans, all his actions, he would say: "I want to be praised."

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

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

We define only out of despair, we must have a formula... to give a facade tot he void.

When you have understood that nothing is, that things do not even deserve the status of appearances, you no longer need to be saved, you are saved, and miserable forever.

As far as I am concerned, I resign from humanity. I no longer want to be, nor can still be, a man. What should I do? Work for a social and political system, make a girl miserable? Hunt for weaknesses in philosophical systems, fight for moral and esthetic ideals? It’s all too little. I renounce my humanity even though I may find myself alone. But am I not already alone in this world from which I no longer expect anything?

As art sinks into paralysis, artists multiply. This anomaly ceases to be one if we realize that art, on its way to exhaustion, has become both impossible and easy.