Whenever someone tells me he dreamed, I wonder if he realizes that he has never done anything but dream.

Between me and life is a faint glass. No matter how sharply I see and understand life, I cannot touch it.

Isn't joyful or painful this pain in which I rejoice

To know how to think with emotions and to feel with intellect.

...the painful intensity of my sensations, even when they're happy ones; the blissful intensity of my sensations, even when they're sad.

And, like the great damned souls, I shall always feel that thinking is worth more than living.

Let's buy books so as not to read them; let's go to concerts without caring to hear the music or see who's there; let's take long walks because we're sick of walking; and let's spend whole days in the country, just because it bores us.