Do you always believe in the life to come? Mine was always that.

Absolute virtue is as sure to kill a man as absolute vice is, let alone the dullness of it and the pomposities of it.

But I know what darkness is, it accumulates, thickens, then suddenly bursts and drowns everything.

Watt's concern, deep as it appeared, was not after all what the figure was, in reality, but with what the figure appeared to be, in reality.

I open the door of the cell and go. I am so bowed I only see my feet, if I open my eyes, and between my legs a little trail of black dust. I say to myself that the earth is extinguished, though I never saw it lit.

We all are born mad. Some remain so.

Was I asleep? Had I slept?