The finest people, as people go, cannot help but betray a fair portion of fear and insecurity, even full-blown panic.

My grandfather felt at home with his lunatics.

Look at your body— A painted puppet, a poor toy Of jointed parts ready to collapse, A diseased and suffering thing With a head full of false imaginings. —The Dhammapada

It has always seemed to me that my existence consisted purely and exclusively of nothing but the most outrageous nonsense.

No one gives up on something until it turns on them, whether or not that thing is real or unreal.

We live in a permanent state of bad faith, a mutual representation of ourselves to one another for the sake of remaining sane and following our biological imperative to continue as a species.

The human phenomenon is but the sum Of densely coiled layers of illusion Each of which winds itself on the supreme insanity That there are persons of any kind When all there can be is mindless mirrors Laughing and screaming as they parade about in an endless dream