Come, try, give any one of us, for instance, a little more independence, untie our hands, widen the spheres of our activity, relax the control and we...yes, I assure you...we should be begging to be under control again at once.

How does it come about that what an intelligent man expresses is much stupider than what remains inside him?

Although your mind works, your heart is darkened with depravity; and without a pure heart there can be no complete and true consciousness

It suddenly seemed to me that I was lonely, that everyone was forsaking me and going away from me.

But yet I am firmly persuaded that a great deal of consciousness, every sort of consciousness, in fact, is a disease.

And yet I am convinced that man will never give up true suffering- that is, destruction and chaos. Why, suffering is the sole root of consciousness.

Perhaps I really regard myself as an intelligent man only because throughout my entire life I've never been able to start or finish anything.