All power is in essence power to deny mortality.

What does it mean to be a self-conscious animal? The idea is ludicrous, if it is not monstrous. It means to know that one is food for worms.

What man really fears is not so much extinction, but extinction with insignificance.

It is fateful and ironic how the lie we need in order to live dooms us to a life that is never really ours.

The man of knowledge in our time is bowed down under a burden he never imagined he would ever have: the overproduction of truth that cannot be consumed.

When we understand that man is the only animal who must create meaning, who must open a wedge into neutral nature, we already understand the essence of love. Love is the problem of an animal who must find life, create a dialogue with nature in order to experience his own being.

Love is the problem of an animal.