I lost my sleep, and this is the greatest tragedy that can befall someone. It is much worse than sitting in prison.

Utopia is the grotesque en rose, the need to associate happiness - that is, the improbable - with becoming, and to coerce an optimistic, aerial vision to the point where it rejoins its own source: the very cynicism it sought to combat. In short, a monstrous fantasy.

We define only out of despair, we must have a formula... to give a facade tot he void.

We are afraid of the enormity of the possible.

Under each formula lies a corpse.

There was a time when time did not yet exist. … The rejection of birth is nothing but the nostalgia for this time before time.

Revenge is not always sweet, once it is consummated we feel inferior to our victim.