“I have spent all my life resisting the desire to end it.”

In man’s struggle against the world, bet on the world.

They’re talking about things of which they don’t have the slightest understanding, anyway. It’s only because of their stupidity that they’re able to be so sure of themselves.

What am I doing here in this endless winter?

I’m tired, can’t think of anything and want only to lay my face in your lap, feel your hand on my head and remain like that through all eternity.

First impressions are always unreliable.

I miss you deeply, unfathomably, senselessly, terribly.

Books are a narcotic.

All I am is literature, and I am not able or willing to be anything else.

As Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found himself transformed in his bed into a gigantic insect.

My guiding principle is this: Guilt is never to be doubted.

You are at once both the quiet and the confusion of my heart; imagine my heartbeat when you are in this state.

Nothing unites two people so completely, especially if, like you and me, all they have is words.

I lack nothing. I only needed myself.

Most men are not wicked, They are sleep-walkers, not evil evildoers.

Every revolution evaporates and leaves behind only the slime of a new bureaucracy.

I never wish to be easily defined. I’d rather float over other people’s minds as something strictly fluid and non-perceivable; more like a transparent, paradoxically iridescent creature rather than an actual person.