I walk along a street and see in the faces of the passersby not the expression they really have but the expression they would have for me if they knew about my life and how I am, if I carried, transparent in my gestures and my face, the ridiculous, timid abnormality of my soul.

I’m beginning to know myself. I don’t exist. I’m the space between what I’d like to be and what others made of me. Just let me be at ease and all by myself in my room.

Ah, what a morning this is, awakening me to life's stupidity. [98 - Zenith trans.]

The value of things is not the time they last, but the intensity with which they occur. That is why there are unforgettable moments and unique people!

Sometimes, when I wake up at night, I feel invisible hands weaving my destiny.

The essence of what I desire is simply this: to sleep away life.

Literature is the most agreeable way of ignoring life.