So long as man is protected by madness - he functions - and flourishes.

Nostalgia, more than anything, gives us the shudder of our own imperfection. This is why with Chopin we feel so little like gods.

Only optimists commit suicide, optimists who no longer succeed at being optimists. The others, having no reason to live, why would they have any to die?

A regret understood by no one: the regret to be a pessimist. It’s not easy to be on the wrong foot with life.

Mind, even more deadly to empires than to individuals, erodes them, compromises their solidity.

Skepticism is the sadism of embittered souls.

No one recovers from the disease of being born, a deadly wound if there ever was one.