I hear nothings, I speak nothings, I take interest in nothing and from nothing to nothing I travel gently down the dull way which leads to becoming nothing.

I love nothing and that is the true cause of my ennui.

[On the legend that after being beheaded St. Denis walked six miles with his head in his hands:] It is only the first step that is difficult.

Heed the still small voice that so seldom leads us wrong, and never into folly.

I hear nothings, I speak nothings, I take interest in nothing and from nothing to nothing I travel gently down the dull way which leads to becoming nothing.

Rules of society are nothing; one's conscience is the umpire.

Ah! I shall repeat it endlessly, the only misfortune is to be born!