What is that one crucifixion compared to the daily kind any insomniac endures?

Utopia is a mixture of childish rationalism and secularized angelism.

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.

To think is to take a cunning revenge in which we camouflage our baseness and conceal our lower instincts.

You cannot protect your solitude if you cannot make yourself odious.

Were we to undertake an exhaustive self-scrutiny, disgust would paralyze us, we would be doomed to a thankless existence.

Each of us must pay for the slightest damage he inflicts upon a universe created for indifference and stagnation, sooner or later, he will regret not having left it intact.