Pursued by our origins... we all are.

There is not much difference between a mortal man and a dying man. The absurdity of making plans is only slightly more obvious in the second case.

We would not be interested in human beings if we did not have the hope of someday meeting someone worse off than ourselves.

It is not worth the bother of killing yourself, since you always kill yourself too late.

History proves nothing because it contains everything.

Melancholy redeems this universe, and yet it is melancholy that separates us from it.

This very second has vanished forever, lost in the anonymous mass of the irrevocable. It will never return. I suffer from this and I do not. Everything is unique - and insignificant.