It's not demons (who at least have a human face) but Hell itself that seems to be laughing inside me, it's the croaking madness of the dead universe, the spinning cadaver of physical space, the end of all worlds blowing blackly in the wind, formless and timeless, without a God who created it, without even its own self, impossibly whirling in the absolute darkness as the one and only reality, everything.

To be understood is to prostitute oneself

Decadence is the total loss of unconsciousness, which is the very basis of life. Could it think, the heart would stop beating.

Blessed are those who entrust their lives to no one.

THIRD WATCHER Let her speak. Don't interrupt. She knows words that mermaids taught her...I'm falling asleep in order to hear her...Go on, sister, go on...My heart aches because I wasn't you when you dreamed at the seashore.

Writing is like paying myself a formal visit.

Life hurls us like a stone, and we sail through the air saying, "look at me move.