There's a non-existent peace in the uncertain quietness

And leaning out the window, enjoying the day above the varying volume of the entire city, only one thought swells my soul – the intimate will to die, to finish, not to see more light over any city, not to think, not to feel, to leave behind like wrapping paper the course of the sun and the days, to rid myself, at the edge of the grand bed, as of a heavy suit, of the involuntary effort to be.

I believe that saying a thing is to keep its virtues and take away its terror.

Let us sculpt in hopeless silence all our dreams of speaking.

The unnatural and the strange have a perfume of their own

I want to be a work of art, at least in my soul, since I can’t be one in my body.

At first I felt dizzy - not with the kind of dizziness that makes the body reel but the kind that's like a dead emptiness in the brain, an instinctive awareness of the void.