I’ve had all the monstrosity I want.

What Homo sapien imagines, he may slowly convert himself to.

In an age of madness, to expect to be untouched by madness is a form of madness. But the pursuit of sanity can be a form of madness, too

My face too blind, my mind too limited, my instincts too narrow. But this intensity, doesn't it mean anything?

A plan relieves you of the torment of choice.

I have, perhaps, a slave-like constitution which is too easily restrained by bonds; it then becomes rebellious and bursts out in a comic revolution.

I seem to have the blind self-acceptance of the eccentric who can't conceive that his eccentricities are not clearly understood.