While I was an honorable man in her eyes, she did not love me. But the minute she understood what I was, when she breathed the true and foul odor of my soul, love was born in her – for she does love me! Well, well! There is nothing real, then, except evil.

Wherever he goes, whatever he does, he will always see that word: murder—immortally inscribed upon the pediment of that vast slaughterhouse—humanity.

When one tears away the veils and shows them naked, people's souls give off such a pungent smell of decay.

Sheep run to the slaughterhouse, silent and hopeless, but at least sheep never vote for the butcher who kills them or the people who devour them. More beastly than any beast, more sheepish than any sheep, the voter names his own executioner and chooses his own devourer, and for this precious "right" a revolution was fought.

There is a diabolical streak in me, a troublesome and inexplicable perversity.

‎The greatest danger of a terrorist's bomb is in the explosion of stupidity that it provokes.

Come now, don't make such a funeral face. It isn't dying that's sad; it's living when you're not happy.