Every time I change the way I explain myself to myself, I have to rearrange the story of my life.

Yearning wants mostly to perpetuate itself.

We sometimes find truth, but more often it finds us.

Prudence does not make people happy; it merely deprives them of the excitement of being constantly in trouble.

I am invigorated by work, wasted by pleasure.

If the world would apologize, I might consider a reconciliation.

Work at first rescues us, then ravages us.