Only one thing matters: learning to be the loser.

I try--without success--to stop finding reasons for vanity in anything. When I happen to manage it nonetheless, I feel that I no longer belong to the mortal gang. I am above everything then, above the gods themselves. Perhaps that is what death is: a sensation of great, of extreme superiority.

An individual dies ... when, instead of taking risks and hurling himself toward being, he cowers within, and takes refuge there.

The only free mind is one that, pure of all intimacy with beings or objects, plies its own vacuity.

Every word affords me pain. Yet how sweet it would be if I could hear what the flowers have to say about death!

Revenge is not always sweet, once it is consummated we feel inferior to our victim.

The true hero fights and dies in the name of his destiny, and not in the name of a belief.