At this very moment, I am suffering—as we say in French, j’ai mal. This event, crucial for me, is nonexistent, even inconceivable for anyone else, for everyone else. Except for God, if that word can have a meaning.

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

To read is to let someone else work for you - the most delicate form of exploitation.

A self-respecting man is a man without a country. A fatherland is birdlime.

Even when nothing happens, everything seems too much for me. What can be said, then, in the presence of an event, any event?

I cannot contribute anything to this world because I only have one method: agony.

If, at the limit, you can rule without crime, you cannot do so without injustices.