All of us are mad. If it weren't for the fact that every one of us is slightly abnormal, there wouldn't be any point in giving each person a separate name.

Who cares about great marks left behind? We have one life... just one. Our life. We have nothing else.

This free will business is a bit terrifying anyway. It's almost pleasanter to obey, and make the most of it.

We play make believe, pretend to take ourselves and each other seriously--to love each other, hate each other--but then--it isn't true. It isn't true, we don't care at all!

There is always a certain peace in being what one is, in being that completely.

When you want to believe in something, you also have to believe in everything that's necessary for believing in it.

We know well enough when we're being unjust and despicable. but we don't restrain ourselves because we experience a certain pleasure, a primitive sort of satisfaction in moments like that.