Tolerance - the function of an extinguished ardor - tolerance cannot seduce the young.

Skepticism is the elegance of anxiety.

Nothing sweeter than to drag oneself along behind events; and nothing more reasonable. But without a strong dose of madness, no initiative, no enterprise, no gesture. Reason: the rust of our vitality. It is the madman in us who forces us to adventure; once he abandons us, we are lost; everything depends on him, even our vegetative life; it is he who invites us, who obliges us to breathe, and it is also he who forces our blood to venture through our veins. Once he withdraws, we are alone indeed! We cannot be normal and alive at the same time.

Each time I fail to think about death, I have the impression of cheating, of deceiving someone in me.

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

Everything turns on pain; the rest is accessory, even nonexistent, for we remember only what hurts. Painful sensations being the only real ones, it is virtually useless to experience others.

What are you waiting for in order to give up?