Why, flowers are violent, cruel, terrible and splendid... like love!

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

Murder is born of love, and love attains the greatest intensity in murder.

You're obliged to pretend respect for people and institutions you think absurd. You live attached in a cowardly fashion to moral and social conventions you despise, condemn, and know lack all foundation.

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

The universe appears to me like an immense, inexorable torture-garden…Passions, greed, hatred, and lies; social institutions, justice, love, glory, heroism, and religion: these are its monstrous flowers and its hideous instruments of eternal human suffering.

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