The weak fear happiness itself. They can harm themselves on cotton wool. Sometimes they are wounded even by happiness

What is society but an individual? [] The ocean is not society; it is individuals. This was how I managed to gain a modicum of freedom from my terror at the illusion of the ocean called the world.

Mine has been a life of much shame. I can't even guess myself what it must be to live the life of a human being.

All I feel are the assaults of apprehension and terror at the thought that I am the only one who is entirely unlike the rest. It is almost impossible for me to converse with other people. What should I talk about, how should I say it? - I don't know.

The real things are apt to be deviant.

Last year nothing happened The year before nothing happened And the year before that nothing happened.

A true artist is an ugly man.