I have a piece of great and sad news to tell you: I am dead.
It is excruciating to be an unbeliever with a spirit that is deeply religious.
Continue reading Proust. His magnificent intelligence is particularly fond of describing stupidity. Which is ultimately exhausting.
Nothing ever gets anywhere. The earth keeps turning round and gets nowhere. The moment is the only thing that counts.
Poetry is indispensable - if I only knew what for.
A car can massage organs which no masseur can reach. It is the one remedy for the disorders of the great sympathetic nervous system.