Everything is ultimately peculiar and ultimately ridiculous.

Amnesia may well be the highest sacrament in the great gray ritual of existence.

Nonexistence never hurt anyone. Existence hurts everyone.

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

The only value of this world lay in its power - at certain times - to suggest another world.

While a modicum of consciousness may have had survivalist properties during an immemorial chapter of our evolution – so one theory goes – this faculty soon enough became a seditious agent working against us … we need to hamper our consciousness for all we are worth or it will impose upon us a too clear vision of what we do not want to see … Consciousness has forced us into the paradoxical position of striving to be unself-conscious of what we are – hunks of spoiling flesh on disintegrating bones

The company that employed me strived only to serve up the cheapest fare that the customer would tolerate, churn it out as fast as possible, and charge as much as they could get away with. If it were possible to do so, the company would sell what all businesses of its kind dream about selling, creating that which all of our efforts were tacitly supposed to achieve: the ultimate product -- Nothing. And for this product they would command the ultimate price -- Everything.