Imaginary pains are by far the most real we suffer, since we feel a constant need for them and invent them because there is no way of doing without them.
No one can keep his griefs in their prime; they use themselves up.
Society: an inferno of saviors!
Old age, after all, is merely the punishment for having lived.
Espousing the melancholy of ancient symbols, I would have freed myself.
We cannot consent to be judged by someone who has suffered less than ourselves. And since each of us regards himself as an unrecognized Job.