Insomnia is a vertiginous lucidity that can convert paradise itself into a place of torture.

We interest others by the misfortune we spread around us.

Only those moments count, when the desire to remain by yourself is so powerful that you'd prefer to blow your brains out than exchange a word with someone.

When we cannot be delivered from ourselves, we delight in devouring ourselves.

Our works, whatever they may be, derive from our incapacity to kill or to kill ourselves.

If truth were not boring, science would have done away with God long ago. But God as well as the saints is a means to escape the dull banality of truth.

Only one endowed with restless vitality is susceptible to pessimism. You become a pessimist-a demonic, elemental, bestial pessimist-only when life has been defeated many times in its fight against depression.