To venture upon an undertaking of any kind, even the most insignificant, is to sacrifice to envy.

Every profound dissatisfaction is of a religious nature: our failures derive from our incapacity to conceive of paradise and to aspire to it, as our discomforts from the fragility of our relations with the absolute.

Even when nothing happens, everything seems too much for me. What can be said, then, in the presence of an event, any event?

Every form of talent involves a certain shameless-ness.

True confessions are written with tears only. But my tears would drown the world, as my inner fire would reduce it to ashes.

He who hates himself is not humble.

It is enough for me to hear someone talk sincerely about ideals, about the future, about philosophy, to hear him say “we" with a certain inflection of assurance, to hear him invoke "others" and regard himself as their interpreter - for me to consider him my enemy.