The genuine artist is as much a dissatisfied person as the revolutionary, yet how diametrically opposed are the products each distills from his dissatisfaction.

I hang onto my prejudices, they are the testicles of my mind.

We clamor for equality chiefly in matters in which we ourselves cannot hope to obtain excellence.

It is by its promise of a sense of power that evil often attracts the weak.

The passion for equality is partly a passion for anonymity: to be one thread of the many which make up a tunic; one thread not distinguishable from the others. No one can then point us out, measure us against others and expose our inferiority.

We lie loudest when we lie to ourselves.

Nature attains perfection, but man never does.