I cannot understand why the world is arranged as it is.

Because everyone is guilty for everyone else. For all the 'wee ones,' because there are little children and big children. All people are 'wee ones.' And I'll go for all of them, because there must be someone who will go for all of them.

We are born dead, and we are becoming more and more contented with our condition. We are acquiring the taste for it.

But do you understand, I cry to him, do you understand that if you have the guillotine in the forefront, and with such glee, it's for the sole reason that cutting heads off is the easiest thing, and having an idea is difficult!

My soul bleeds and the blood steadily, silently, disturbingly slowly, swallows me whole.

The degree of civilization in a society can be judged by entering its prisons.

I don’t even know what I’m writing, I have no idea, I don’t know anything, and I’m not reading over it, and I’m not correcting my style, and I’m writing just for the sake of writing, just for the sake of writing more to you… My precious, my darling, my dearest!