Alone, even doing nothing, you do not waste your time. You do, almost always, in company. No encounter with yourself can be altogether sterile: Something necessarily emerges, even if only the hope of some day meeting yourself again.

Crime in full glory consolidates authority by the sacred fear it inspires.

There is no other world. Nor even this one. What, then, is there? The inner smile provoked in us by the patent nonexistence of both.

Beware of thinkers whose minds function only when they are fueled by a quotation.

Every thought derives from a thwarted sensation.

I have all the defects of other people yet everything they do seems to me inconceivable.

Philosophy: Impersonal anxiety; refuge among anemic ideas.