Isn't there someone kind enough to come strangle me in my sleep?

Yes -- or rather, it's not so much that I want to die as that I'm tired of living.

I have no conscience at all -- least of all an artistic conscience. All I have is nerves.

A man sometimes devotes his life to a desire which he is not sure will ever be fulfilled. Those who laugh at this folly are, after all, no more than mere spectators of life.

As you can imagine, those who had fallen this far had been so worn down by their tortures in the seven other hells that they no longer had the strength to cry out.

I could wish for nothing more than to die for a childish dream in which I truly believed.

No matter how accomplished one might be in any branch of learning or art, one would have to be condemned to hell, if on where not endowed with th five cardinal virtues of Confucius-benevolence, justice, courtesy, wisdom and fidelity