Vague a l'ame - melancholy yearning for the end of the world.

Woes and wonders of power, that tonic hell, synthesis of poison and panacea.

The reaction against your own thought in itself lends life to thought. How this reaction is born is hard to describe, because it identifies with the very rare intellectual tragedies. The tension, the degree and level of intensity of a thought proceeds from its internal antinomies, which in turn are derived from the unsolvable contradictions of a soul. Thought cannot solve the contradictions of the soul. As far as linear thinking is concerned, thoughts mirror themselves in other thoughts, instead of mirroring a destiny.

One cannot live without motives. I have no motives left, and I am living.

What is that one crucifixion compared to the daily kind any insomniac endures?

What I know at sixty, I knew as well at twenty. Forty years of a long, superfluous, labor of verification.

Illusion begets and sustains the world; we do not destroy one without destroying the other. Which is what I do every day. An apparently ineffectual operation, since I must begin all over again the next day.