There were days when you peered into yourself, into the secret places of your heart, and what you saw there made you faint with horror. And then, next day, you didn't know what to make of it,you couldn't interpret the horror you had glimpsed the day before. Yes, you know what evil costs.

Through the lack of attaching myself to words, my thoughts remain nebulous most of the time. They sketch vague, pleasant shapes and then are swallowed up; I forget them almost immediately.

I wanted the moments of my life to follow and order themselves like those of a life remembered. You might as well try and catch time by the tail.

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

There is no book of mine that I reject. That does not mean that I find them good.

I committed the first crime by creating men as mortals. After that, what more could you do, you the murderers? Come on; they already had death in them: at most you simply hastened things a little.

I have no need for good souls: an accomplice is what I wanted.