The insatiable thirst for everything which lies beyond, and which life reveals, is the most living proof of our immortality.
There is no such thing as a long piece of work, except one that you dare not start.
Any newspaper, from the first line to the last, is nothing but a web of horrors, I cannot understand how an innocent hand can touch a newspaper without convulsing in disgust.
Nature… is nothing but the inner voice of self-interest.
Our sense of worth, of well-being, even our sanity depends upon our remembering. But, alas, our sense of worth, our well-being, our sanity also depend upon our forgetting.
Even in the centuries which appear to us to be the most monstrous and foolish, the immortal appetite for beauty has always found satisfaction.
The unique and supreme voluptuousness of love lies in the certainty of committing evil. And men and women know from birth that in evil is found all sensual delight.
Music fathoms the sky.
Less than the dust beneath thy chariot wheel, less than the weed that grows beside thy door.
God is the only being who, in order to reign, doesn’t even need to exist.