“A madman’s ravings are absurd in relation to the situation in which he finds himself, but not in relation to his madness.”

Tme is too large, it can’t be filled up. Everything you plunge into it is stretched and disintegrates.

There is a universe behind and before him. And the day is approaching when closing the last book on the last shelf on the far left; he will say to himself, “now what?

I am a mere breath of air; a formless thought that thinks of you.

I do not think, therefore I am a moustache.

The worst part about being lied to is knowing you weren’t worth the truth.

To know what life is worth you have to risk it once in a while.

I am myself and I am here.

Little flashes of sun on the surface of a cold, dark sea.

Death is a continuation of my life without me.

Nothing happens while you live. The scenery changes, people come in and go out, that’s all. There are no beginnings. Days are tacked on to days without rhyme or reason, an interminable, monotonous addition.

We must act out passion before we can feel it.

Life has no meaning a priori, It is up to you to give it a meaning, and value is nothing but the meaning that you choose.

The more sand that has escaped from the hourglass of our life, the clearer we should see through it.

When the rich wage war it’s the poor who die.

If I became a philosopher, if I have so keenly sought this fame for which I’m still waiting, it’s all been to seduce women basically.

Do you think that I count the days? There is only one day left, always starting over: it is given to us at dawn and taken away from us at dusk.

Occasionally, when I get mad at a woman, I’ll do some great, awful painting about her.

You have certain writing tools but generally creating something from nothing makes one quite mad and Cynthia and I are quite mad you know.

If you are a woman and you bought this book for practical tips on how to make it in a male-dominated workplace, here they are. No pigtails, no tube tops. Cry sparingly.

Some people say, “Never let them see you cry.” I say, if you’re so mad you could just cry, then cry. It terrifies everyone.

But mad people never die. That’s a well-known fact. They’ve nothing to trouble them, and they live for ever.

How would I myself live in this proposed society? How long would it be before I went stark staring mad?

If I don’t write to empty my mind, I go mad.

You shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you mad.