One must shed the bad taste of wanting to agree with many. "Good" is no longer good when one's neighbor mouths it. And how should there be a "common good"! The term contradicts itself: whatever can be common always has little value. In the end it must be as it is and always has been: great things remain for the great, abysses for the profound, nuances and shudders for the refined, and, in brief, all that is rare for the rare.

Pity is extolled as the virtue of prostitutes.

Like tourists huffing and puffing to reach the peak we forget the view on the way up.

Immortal is the moment when I engendered the recurrence. For the sake of this moment I bear the recurrence.

What good is all this free-thinking, modernity, and turncoat flexibility if at some gut level you are still a Christian, a Catholic, and even a priest!

Life, and you, and I, and all of us together became for a while interesing to ourselves once more.

as though "the Truth" were such an innocent and incompetent creature as to require protectors!