I exist, that is all, and I find it nauseating.
What's done at night belongs to the night. In the daytime you don't talk about it.
Ah! How I hate the crimes of the new generation: they are dry and sterile as darnel.
I had spent my time counterfeiting eternity.
I enjoy feeling fastidious and aloof. I enjoy saying no, always no, and I should be afraid of any attempt to construct a finally habitable world, because I should merely have to say - Yes; and act like other people.
Everything comes to us from others. To Be is to belong to someone.