What do we do now, now that we are happy?

I have my faults, but changing my tune is not one of them.

The sun shone, having no alternative, on the nothing new.

The old endless chain of love, tolerance, indifference, aversion and disgust

I, of whom I know nothing, I know my eyes are open, because of the tears that pour from them unceasingly.

I tried to groan, Help! Help! But the tone that came out was that of polite conversation.

Against the charitable gesture there is no defence.

There's man all over for you, blaming on his boots the fault of his feet.

Words are all we have.

Every word is like an unnecessary stain on silence and nothingness.

If I was dead, I wouldn't know I was dead. That's the only thing I have against death. I want to enjoy my death.

The end is in the beginning and yet you go on.

People are bloody ignorant apes.

With all this darkness round me I feel less alone.

What do I know of man's destiny? I could tell you more about radishes.

Reality, whether approached imaginatively or empirically, remains a surface, hermetic.

If I had the use of my body, I would throw it out the window.

Any fool can turn a blind eye but who knows what the ostrich sees in the sand.

The human eyelid is not teartight (happily for the human eye).