Music is the refuge of souls ulcerated by happiness.

Democracy: a festival of mediocrity.

Maniacs of Procreation, bipeds with devalued faces, we have lost all appeal for each other.

The premonition of madness is complicated by the fear of lucidity in madness, the fear of the moments of return and reunion... One would welcome chaos if one were not afraid of lights in it.

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

A people represents not so much an aggregate of ideas and theories as of obsessions.

Man starts over again everyday, in spite of all he knows, against all he knows.