If you die, I will lie down beside you and I will stay there until the end, without eating or drinking, you will rot in my arms and I will love you as carcass: for you love nothing if you do not love everything.

Some of these days, Oh, you'll miss me honey

I do not think therefore I am a moustache

I was escaping from Nature and at last becoming myself, that Other whom I was aspiring to be in the eyes of others.

I will take it all: tongs, molten lead, prongs, garrotes, all that burns, all that tears, I want to truly suffer. Better one hundred bites, better the whip, vitriol, than this suffering in the head, this ghost of suffering which grazes and caresses and never hurts enough.

I have seen children dying of hunger. Over against a dying child La Nausee cannot act as a counterweight.

Besides one should not believe that the people only want reading that is easy to absorb.