Pursued by our origins... we all are.

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

Society is not a disease, it is a disaster. What a stupid miracle that one can live in it.

The true hero fights and dies in the name of his destiny, and not in the name of a belief.

True contact between beings is established only by mute presence, by apparent non-communication, by that mysterious and wordless exchange which resembles inward prayer.

Society: an inferno of saviors!

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.