Under each formula lies a corpse.
We derive our vitality from our store of madness.
A regret understood by no one: the regret to be a pessimist. It’s not easy to be on the wrong foot with life.
Lucidity's task: to attain a correct despair, an Olympian ferocity.
I seem to myself, among civilized men, an intruder, a troglodyte enamored of decrepitude, plunged into subversive prayers.
Knowledge, having irritated and stimulated our appetite for power, will lead us inexorably to our ruin.