Only death does not lie.
If there was no death, everyone would wish for it.
In life there are certain sores which, like a kind of canker, slowly erode the soul in solitude.
My one fear is that tomorrow I may die without having come to know myself.
Ugh! How many stories about love, copulation, marriage and death already exist, not one of which tells the truth! How sick I am of well-constructed plots and brilliant writing!
I write only for my shadow which is cast on the wall in front of the light. I must introduce myself to it.