It is a frightful satire and an epigram on the modern age that the only use it knows for solitude is to make it a punishment, a jail sentence.
I stick my finger into existence and it smells of nothing.
If anyone on the verge of action should judge himself according to the outcome, he would never begin.
You live life looking forward, you understand life looking backward.
Once you are born in this world you’re old enough to die.
Men are not on such intimate terms with the sublime that they really can believe in it