My enthusiasms...constitute my reserves, my unexploited resources, perhaps my future.

We are so lonely in life that we must ask ourselves if the loneliness of dying is not a symbol of our human existence.

In a republic, that paradise of debility, the politician is a petty tyrant who obeys the laws.

I do not want to see BP nickel and diming these businesses that are having a tough time.

There is only one thing worse than boredom, and that is the fear of boredom.

Speech and silence. We feel safer with a madman who talks than with one who cannot open his mouth.

Consider love: is there a nobler outpouring, a rapture less suspect? Its shudders rival music, compete with the tears of solitude and of ecstasy: sublime...but a sublimity inseperable from the urinary tract: transports bordering upon excretion, a heaven of the glands, sudden sancitity of the orifices. It takes no more than a moment of attention for this intoxication, shaken, to cast you back into the ordures of physiology or a moment of fatigue to recognize that so much ardor produces only a variety of mucous.