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.

One does not inhabit a country; one inhabits a language. That is our country, our fatherland - and no other.

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

Life inspires more dread than death - it is life which is the great unknown.

We are all deep in a hell each moment of which is a miracle.

If I were to be totally sincere, I would say that I do not know why I live and why I do not stop living. The answer probably lies in the irrational character of life which maintains itself without reason.

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