My true church is a whorehouse – the only one that gives me true satisfaction.
How cruel my suffering is,—no one is more talkative than I am!
The owl flies, in the moonlight, over a field where the wounded cry out. Like the owl, I fly in the night over my own misfortune.
Sovereignty, loyalty, and solitude.
The warrior's nobility is like a prostitute's smile, the truth of which is self-interest.
Literature ... is the rediscovery of childhood.