This very second has vanished forever, lost in the anonymous mass of the irrevocable. It will never return. I suffer from this and I do not. Everything is unique - and insignificant.

Boredom dismantles the mind, renders it superficial, out at the seams, saps it from within and dislocates it.

What a pity that 'nothingness' has been devalued by an abuse of it made by philosophers unworthy of it!

We are all deep in a hell each moment of which is a miracle.

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

Everything is pathology, except for indifference.

Show me one thing here on earth which has begun well and not ended badly. The proudest palpitations are engulfed in a sewer, where they cease throbbing, as though having reached their natural term: this downfall constitutes the heart's drama and the negative meaning of history.