Consciousness is much more than the thorn, it is the dagger in the flesh.
Do I look like someone who has something to do here on earth?' —That's what I'd like to answer the busybodies who inquire into my activities.
A man who fears ridicule will never go far, for good or ill: he remains on this side of this talents, and even if he has genius, he is doomed to mediocrity.
If truth were not boring, science would have done away with God long ago. But God as well as the saints is a means to escape the dull banality of truth.
Between Ennui and Ecstasy unwinds our whole experience of time.
We inhabit a language rather than a country.
The obsession with suicide is characteristic of the man who can neither live nor die, and whose attention never swerves from this double impossibility.
One hardly saves a world without ruling it.
Alone, even doing nothing, you do not waste your time. You do, almost always, in company. No encounter with yourself can be altogether sterile: Something necessarily emerges, even if only the hope of some day meeting yourself again.
Write books only if you are going to say in them the things you would never dare confide to anyone.
History is nothing but a procession of false Absolutes, a series of temples raised to pretexts, a degradation of the mind before the Improbable.
I would like to go mad on one condition, namely, that I would become a happy madman, lively and always in a good mood, without any troubles and obsessions, laughing senselessly from morning to night.
There was a time when time did not yet exist. … The rejection of birth is nothing but the nostalgia for this time before time.
What pride to discover that nothing belongs to you - what a revelation.
Man starts over again everyday, in spite of all he knows, against all he knows.
Whenever I happen to be in a city of any size, I marvel that riots do not break out everyday: Massacres, unspeakable carnage, a doomsday chaos. How can so many human beings coexist in a space so confined without hating each other to death?
Everything is pathology, except for indifference.
The desire to die was my one and only concern; to it I have sacrificed everything, even death.
I don’t understand how people can believe in God, even when I myself think of him everyday.
The true hero fights and dies in the name of his destiny, and not in the name of a belief.
Show me one thing here on earth which has begun well and not ended badly. The proudest palpitations are engulfed in a sewer, where they cease throbbing, as though having reached their natural term: this downfall constitutes the heart's drama and the negative meaning of history.
If you're unlucky enough not to have alcoholic parents, it takes you a whole lifetime of intoxication to overcome the dead weight of their virtues.
For you who no longer possess it, freedom is everything, for us who do, it is merely an illusion.
To live... in any sense of the word... is to reject others; to accept them, one must renounce, do oneself violence.
Is it possible that existence is our exile and nothingness our home?
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