“Do we mean love, when we say love?”

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

Poets are the sense, philosophers­­ the intelligence­­ of humanity.

Sometimes I wonder if I’m in my right mind. Then it passes off and I’m as intelligent as ever.

We have time to grow old. The air is full of our cries. But habit is a great deadener.

Habit is the ballast that chains the dog to his vomit.

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.

That desert of loneliness and recrimination that men call love.

I marshalled the words and opened my mouth, thinking I would hear them. But all I heard was a kind of rattle, unintelligible even to me who knew what was intended.

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

To have been always what I am – and so changed from what I was.

Nothing is more real than nothing.

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

For in me there have always been two fools, among others, one asking nothing better than to stay where he is and the other imagining that life might be slightly less horrible a little further on.

If there is one question I dread, to which I have never been able to invent a satisfactory reply, it is the question what am I doing.

I could not have gone through the awful wretched mess of life without having left a stain upon the silence.

But at this place, at this moment of time, all mankind is us, whether we like it or not. Let us make the most of it, before it is too late!

Stories may well be lies, but they are good lies that say true things, and which can sometimes pay the rent.

How much good inside a day? Depends on how good you live ’em. How much love inside a friend? Depends on how much you give ’em.

In civilizations without ships, dreams dry up, espionage takes the place of adventure and the police take the place of corsairs.

Loneliness breeds self-love.

I believe that when I die I shall rot, and nothing of my ego will survive.

Today will end and another day will come – I can’t bend time into softer motions all I can do is live.

Life is like a game, there could be many players. If you don’t play with them, they’ll play with you.

Time is by my side I’m not running forward for time is not behind.