All in all, death is something like marriage.
I'd seen too many troubling things to be easy in my mind. I knew too much and not enough. I'd better go out, I said to myself, I'd better go out again.
The more one is hated, I find, the happier one is.
I piss on you all from a considerable height.
All that makes a lunatic are the very ordinary ideas of mankind shut up inside a man's head.
Since life consists of madness spiked with lies, the farther you are from each other the more lies you can put into it and the happier you'll be. That's only natural and normal. Truth is inedible.