Daily life is governed by an economic system in which the production and consumption of insults tends to balance out.

It is entirely up to us to invent our own lives.

Suffering is the pain of constraints. An atom of pure delight, no matter how small, can hold it at bay.

What could I wish for the present but to take the greatest pleasure in being what I am?

The organization controlling the material equipment of our everyday life is such that what in itself would enable us to construct it richly plunges us instead into a poverty of abundance, making alienation all the more intolerable as each convenience promises liberation and turns out to be only one more burden. We are condemned to slavery to the means of liberation.

To work for delight and authentic festivity is barely distinguishable from preparing for a general insurrection

The same people who are murdered slowly in the mechanized slaughterhouses of work are also arguing, singing, drinking, dancing, making love, holding the streets, picking up weapons and inventing a new poetry.