The truth is always an abyss. One must — as in a swimming pool — dare to dive from the quivering springboard of trivial everyday experience and sink into the depths, in order to later rise again — laughing and fighting for breath — to the now doubly illuminated surface of things.

I’m doing badly, I’m doing well; whichever you prefer.

I have the true feeling of myself only when I am unbearably unhappy.

I have spent my life resisting the desire to end it.

Writing is a deeper sleep than death. Just as one wouldn't pull a corpse from its grave, I can't be dragged from my desk at night.

The fact that our task is exactly commensurate with our life gives it the appearance of being infinite.

The true word leads; the untrue misleads.