There's man all over for you, blaming on his boots the fault of his feet.
But I know what darkness is, it accumulates, thickens, then suddenly bursts and drowns everything.
God is a witness that cannot be sworn.
If you don't know where you are currently standing, you're dead.
Mysterious affair, electricity.
Sometimes I wonder if I'm in my right mind. Then it passes off and I'm as intelligent as ever.
Nothing happens. Nobody comes, nobody goes. It's awful.
In my head there are several windows, that I do know, but perhaps it is always the same one, open variously on the parading universe.
All I want to do is sit on my ass and fart and think of Dante.
I use the words you taught me. If they don't mean anything any more, teach me others. Or let me be silent.
Unhappy, but not unhappy enough.
Yes, I dont know why, but I have never been disappointed, and I often was in the early days, without feeling at the same time, or a moment later, an undeniable relief.
I hope I am not too old to take it up seriously, nor too stupid about machines to qualify as a commercial pilot. I do not feel like spending the rest of my life writing books that no one will read. It is not as though I wanted to write them.
Yes, in my life, since we must call it so, there were three things, the inability to speak, the inability to be silent, and solitude, that’s what I’ve had to make the best of.
Birth was the death of him.
But I was not made for the great light that devours, a dim lamp was all I had been given, and patience without end, to shine it on the empty shadows.
Poets are the sense, philosophers the intelligence of humanity.
To have been always what I am - and so changed from what I was.
There is no use indicting words, they are no shoddier than what they peddle.
I have always been amazed at my contemporaries’ lack of finesse, I whose soul writhed from morning to night, in the mere quest of itself.
And what I have, what I am, is enough, was always enough for me, and as far as my dear little sweet little future is concerned I have no qualms, I have a good time coming.
Habit is a great deadener.
Perhaps my best years are gone. When there was a chance of happiness. But I wouldn't want them back. Not with the fire in me now. No, I wouldn't want them back.
I am such a good man, at bottom, such a good man, how is it that nobody ever noticed it?
The reality of the individualis an incoherent reality and must be expressed incoherently.
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