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

Lots of men are like that, their artistic leanings never go beyond a weakness for shapely thighs.

I crawled back into myself all alone, just delighted to observe that I was even more miserable than before, because I had brought a new kind of distress and something that resembled true feeling into my solitude.

Truth is a pain which will not stop. And the truth of this world is to die. You must choose: either dying or lying. Personally, I have never been able to kill myself

Our journey is entirely imaginary. That is its strength.

There are certain advantages in being cursed by all and sundry ... especially, it dispenses you with having to be nice to anybody ... there's nothing more emollient, stultifying, emasculating than wanting to be liked ... "not nice!" ... that does it, you're free!.

Life must go on, even if it's no joke...just pretend to believe in the future.