Not one moment when I have not been conscious of being outside Paradise.
Trees are massacred, houses go up — faces, faces everywhere. Man is spreading. Man is the cancer of the earth.
There is no limit to suffering.
Life creates itself in delirium and is undone in ennui.
A sensation must have fallen very low to deign to turn into an idea.
How good would it be if one could die by throwing oneself into an infinite void.