The goal of life is not to possess power but to radiate it.

Those who are truly decrepit, living corpses, so to speak, are the middle-aged, middle-class men and woman who are stuck in their comfortable grooves and imagine that the status quo will least forever or else are so frightened it won't, that they have retreated into their mental bomb shelters to wait it out.

France may one day exist no more, but the Dordogne will live on just as dreams live on and nourish the souls of men.

Confusion is a word we have invented for an order which is not understood.

It is the American vice, the democratic disease which expresses its tyranny by reducing everything unique to the level of the herd.

Words, sentences, ideas, no matter how subtle or ingenious, the maddest flights of poetry, the most profound dreams, the most hallucinating visions, are but crude hieroglyphs chiseled in pain and sorrow to commemorate an event which is untransmissible.

I see America spreading disaster. I see America as a black curse upon the world. I see a long night settling in and that mushroom which has poisoned the world withering at the roots.