Sometimes the truth is too simple for intellectuals.

At times discreetly, at times disgustingly, I yielded to the most fatal temptation whenever I could no longer bear it: as a result of impatience, Orpheus lost Eurydice; as a result of impatience, I lost myself.

The consciousness that says 'I am' is not the consciousness that thinks.

I am not asking for sensational revelations, but I would like to sense the meaning of that minute, to feel it's urgency.

Outside nature, against nature, without excuse, beyond remedy, except what remedy I find within myself.

Uncalled-for aggression arouses the hatred of the civilian population.

A pale reflection of myself wavers in my consciousness...and suddenly the “I” pales, pales, and fades out.