Here I am trying to live, or rather, I am trying to teach the death within me how to live.

Do not take up cause against the inaccuracies printed about you. They are your protection.

Without resistance you can do nothing

Living is a horizontal fall.

Everything one does in life, even love, occurs in an express train racing toward death. To smoke opium is to get out of the train while it is still moving. It is to concern oneself with something other than life or death.

The speed of a runaway horse counts for nothing.

In two weeks, despite these notes, I shall no longer believe in what I am experiencing now. One must leave behind a trace of this journey which memory forgets. One must, when this is impossible, write or draw without responding to the romantic solicitations of pain, without enjoying suffering like music, tieing a pen to one's foot if need be, helping the doctors who can learn nothing from laziness.