I suffer from life and from other people. I can’t look at reality face to face. Even the sun discourages and depresses me. Only at night and all alone, withdrawn, forgotten and lost, with no connection to anything real or useful — only then do I find myself and feel comforted.

I take with me the conscience of defeat as a victory banner.

Ser compreendido é prostituir-se.

The sea with an end can be Greek or Roman: the endless sea is Portuguese.

I don't know what I feel or what I want to feel. I don't know what to think or what I am.

There are no norms. All people are exceptions to a rule that doesn’t exist.

We almost always live outside ourselves, and life itself is a continual dispersion. But it's towards ourselves that we tend, as towards a centre around which, like planets, we trace absurd and distant ellipses.