Silence and darkness were all I craved. Well, I get a certain amount of both. They being one.

Habit is a compromise effected between the individual and his environment, or between the individual and his own organic eccentricities, the guarantee of a dull inviolability, the lightning-conductor of his existence.

What is more true than anything else? To swim is true and to sink is true. One cannot speak any more of being, one must speak onlyof the mess.

We all are born mad. Some remain so.

The search for the means to put an end to things, an end to speech, is what enables the discourse to continue.

I have always been amazed at my contemporaries’ lack of finesse, I whose soul writhed from morning to night, in the mere quest of itself.

There are two moments worthwhile in writing, the one when you start and the other when you throw it in the waste-paper basket.