When every man has realized that his birth is a defeat, existence, endurable at last, will seem like the day after a surrender, like the relief and the repose of the conquered.

The wise man, the sage, is hostile to the new. Disabused, he abdicates: that is his form of protest.

A civilization is destroyed only when its gods are destroyed.

Glory - once achieved, what is it worth?

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

Between the demand to be clear,and the temptation to be obscure, impossible to decide which deserves more respect.

Try to be free: you will die of hunger.