People who remember court madness through pain, the pain of the perpetually recurring death of their innocence; people who forget court another kind of madness, the madness of the denial of pain and the hatred of innocence; and the world is mostly divided between madmen who remember and madmen forget.

The writer's only real task: to recreate out of the disorder of life that order which is art

Hatred is always self hatred, and there is something suicidal about it.

It is astonishing the lengths to which a person, or a people, will go in order to avoid a truthful mirror.

I am certainly convinced that it is one of the greatest impulses of mankind to arrive at something higher than a natural state.

I imagine one of the reasons people cling to their hates so stubbornly is because they sense, once hate is gone, they will be forced to deal with pain.

If you're afraid to die, you will not be able to live.