Actions are sometimes performed in a masterly and most cunning way, while the direction of the actions is deranged and dependent on various morbid impressions - it's like a dream.

What is hell?...The suffering that comes from the consciousness that one is no longer able to love.

My sweetheart! When I think of you, it's as if I'm holding some healing balm to my sick soul, and although i suffer for you, i find that even suffering for you is easy.

Dreams seem to be spurred on not by reason but by desire, not by the head but by the heart, and yet what complicated tricks my reason has played sometimes in dreams.

I swear to you, sirs, that excessive consciousness is a disease--a genuine, absolute disease.

Love the animals: God has given them the rudiments of thought and joy untroubled.

One circumstance tormented me then: Namely, that no one else was like me, and I was like no one else. I am only one, and they are all.