I have no memory for things I have learned, nor things I have read, nor things experienced or heard, neither for people nor events; I feel that I have experienced nothing, learned nothing, that I actually know less than the average schoolboy, and that what I do know is superficial, and that every second question is beyond me. I am incapable of thinking deliberately; my thoughts run into a wall. I can grasp the essence of things in isolation, but I am quite incapable of coherent, unbroken thinking. I can't even tell a story properly; in fact, I can scarcely talk.

The door could not be heard slamming; they had probably left it open, as is the custom in homes where a great misfortune has occurred.

The whole visible world is perhaps nothing more than the rationalization of a man who wants to find peace for a moment.

If it had been possible to build the Tower of Babel without climbing it, it would have been permitted.

God gives the nuts, but he does not crack them.

Every word first looks around in every direction before letting itself be written down by me.

The ulterior motives with which you absorb and assimilate Evil are not your own but those of Evil.