Tyrants are always assassinated too late. That is their great excuse.
No position is so false as having understood and still remaining alive.
Ennui is the echo in us of time tearing itself apart.
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.
The mind is the result of the torments the flesh undergoes or inflicts upon itself.
The Art of Love: knowing how to combine the temperament of a vampire with the discretion of an anemone.