All that makes a lunatic are the very ordinary ideas of mankind shut up inside a man's head.

Not much music left inside us for life to dance to. Our youth has gone to the ends of the earth to die in the silence of the truth. And where, I ask you, can a man escape to, when he hasn't enough madness left inside him? The truth is an endless death agony. The truth is death. You have to choose: death or lies. I've never been able to kill myself.

Troubles are as endless as pleasures are brief.

When it becomes really impossible to get away and sleep, then the will to live evaporates of its own accord.

Experience is a dim lamp, which only lights the one who bears it.

Living, just by itself - what a dirge that is! Life is a classroom and Boredom's the usher, there all the time to spy on you.

I warn you that when the princes of this world start loving you it means they are going to grind you up into battle sausage.