I am a sick man...I am a spiteful man. I am a most unpleasant man.

This pleasure comes precisely from the sharpest awareness of your own degradation; from the knowledge that you have gone to the utmost limit; that it is despicable, yet cannot be otherwise; that you no longer have any way out; that you will never become a different man.

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.

One can fall in love and still hate.

In a way there's only a fine shade of difference between the healthy and the deranged.

a man is no example for a woman. It’s a different thing.

You ache with it all; and the more mysterious it is, the more you ache.