When people come to me saying they want to kill themselves, I tell them, "What’s your rush? You can kill yourself any time you like. So calm down. Suicide is a positive act." And they do calm down.

Ennui is the echo in us of time tearing itself apart.

I do not forgive myself for being born. It is as if creeping into this world, I had profaned a mystery, betrayed some momentous pledge, committed a fault of nameless gravity.

Discretion is deadly to genius; ruinous to talent.

We cannot be normal and alive at the same time.

Espousing the melancholy of ancient symbols, I would have freed myself.

To have committed every crime but that of being a father.