Naturally, love's the most distant possibility.

In what will survive me I am in harmony with my annihilation.

Incredible nervous state, trepidation beyond words: to be this much in love is to be sick (and I love to be sick).

Pleasure only starts once the worm has got into the fruit; to become delightful, happiness must be tainted with poison.

I believe that truth has only one face: that of a violent contradiction.

If I want to realize totality in my consciousness, I have to relate myself to an immense, ludicrous, and painful convulsion of all of humanity.

It seems impossible, in fact, to judge the eye using any word other than seductive, since nothing is more attractive in the bodies of animals and men. But extreme seductiveness is probably at the boundary of horror.