Granted I am a babbler, a harmless vexatious babbler, like all of us. But what is to be done if the direct and sole vocation of every intelligent man is babble, that is, the intentional pouring of water through a sieve?

But what can a decent man speak of with most pleasure? Answer: Of himself. Well, so I will talk about myself.

A beast can never be as cruel as a human being, so artistically, so picturesquely cruel.

Man, so long as he remains free, has no more constant and agonizing anxiety than find as quickly as possible someone to worship.

I don’t understand anything...and I no longer want to understand anything. I want to stick to the fact...If I wanted to understand something, I would immediately have to betray the fact, but I’ve made up my mind to stick to the fact.

Paradise is hidden in each one of use, it is concealed within me too, right now, and if I wish, it will come for me in reality, tomorrow even, and for the rest of my life.

There is immeasurably more left inside than what comes out in words.