It is not worth the bother of killing yourself, since you always kill yourself too late.
A book is a suicide postponed.
Only optimists commit suicide, optimists who no longer succeed at being optimists. The others, having no reason to live, why would they have any to die?
Chaos is rejecting all you have learned, Chaos is being yourself.
Man starts over again everyday, in spite of all he knows, against all he knows.
Write books only if you are going to say in them the things you would never dare confide to anyone.
I don’t understand why we must do things in this world, why we must have friends and aspirations, hopes and dreams. Wouldn’t it be better to retreat to a faraway corner of the world, where all its noise and complications would be heard no more? Then we could renounce culture and ambitions; we would lose everyhing and gain nothing; for what is there to be gained from this world?
The fact that life has no meaning is a reason to live --moreover, the only one.
Knowledge subverts love: in proportion as we penetrate our secrets, we come to loathe our kind, precisely because they resemble us.
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