The sadness of the world has different ways of getting to people, but it seems to succeed almost every time.

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; whatever happens, you've got to look as if you were awfully busy all the time doing something that's terribly exciting - or he'll come along and nibble your brain.

The mind is satisfied with phrased, but not the body, the body is more fastidious, it wants muscles. A body always tells the truth, that's why it's usually depressing and disgusting to look at.

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.

The more one is hated, I find, the happier one is.

When men can hate without risk, their stupidity is easily convinced, the motives supply themselves.

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