Just as ecstasy purifies you of the particular and the contingent, leaving nothing except light and darkness, so insomnia kills off the multiplicity and diversity of the world, leaving you prey to your private obsessions.

Maniacs of Procreation, bipeds with devalued faces, we have lost all appeal for each other.

Jealousy - that jumble of secret worship and ostensible aversion.

So long as man is protected by madness - he functions - and flourishes.

Every word affords me pain. Yet how sweet it would be if I could hear what the flowers have to say about death!

When every man has realized that his birth is a defeat, existence, endurable at last, will seem like the day after a surrender, like the relief and the repose of the conquered.

History proves nothing because it contains everything.