Every thought should recall the ruin of a smile.
To have committed every crime but that of being a father.
We must learn how to explode! Any disease is healthier than the one provoked by a hoarded rage.
Reality is a creation of our excesses.
When you have understood that nothing is, that things do not even deserve the status of appearances, you no longer need to be saved, you are saved, and miserable forever.
No position is so false as having understood and still remaining alive.
One does not inhabit a country; one inhabits a language. That is our country, our fatherland - and no other.
I have tried to protect myself against men, to react against their madness to discern its source; I have listened and I have seen--and I have been afraid of acting for the same motives or for any motive whatever, of believing in the same ghosts or in any other ghost, of letting myself be engulfed by the same intoxications or by some other... afraid, in short, of raving in common and of expiring in a horde of ecstasies.
Nothing is so wearing as the possession or abuse of liberty.
Wherever we go, we come up against the human, a repulsive ubiquity before which we fall into stupor and revolt, a perplexity on fire.
A book has to dig through the wounds, more, it has cause a new one, a book it has to be dangerous.
A civilization is destroyed only when its gods are destroyed.
The multiplication of our kind borders on the obscene; the duty to love them, on the preposterous.
Glory - once achieved, what is it worth?
We are afraid of the enormity of the possible.
History proves nothing because it contains everything.
So long as man is protected by madness - he functions - and flourishes.
Our works, whatever they may be, derive from our incapacity to kill or to kill ourselves.
To write books is to have a certain relation with original sin. For what is a book if not a loss of innocence, an act of aggression, a repetition of our Fall?
To defy heredity is to defy billions of years, to defy the first cell
The limit of every pain is an even greater pain.
In every man sleeps a prophet, and when he wakes there is a little more evil in the world.
To venture upon an undertaking of any kind, even the most insignificant, is to sacrifice to envy.
Melancholy redeems this universe, and yet it is melancholy that separates us from it.
Even when nothing happens, everything seems too much for me. What can be said, then, in the presence of an event, any event?
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