Evil is whatever distracts.

I am on the hunt for constructions. I come into a room and find them whitely merging in a corner.

One tells as few lies as possible only by telling as few lies as possible, and not by having the least possible opportunity to do so.

I write differently from what I speak, I speak differently from what I think, I think differently from the way I ought to think, and so it all proceeds into deepest darkness.

Just because your doctor has a name for your condition, doesn't mean he knows what it is.

Was he an animal, that music could move him so? He felt as if the way to the unknown nourishment he longed for were coming to light.

The existence of the writer is an argument against the existence of the soul, for the soul has obviously taken flight from the real ego, but not improved itself, only become a writer.