Each concession we make is accompanied by an inner diminution of which we are not immediately conscious.

Under each formula lies a corpse.

Life inspires more dread than death - it is life which is the great unknown.

Impossible to spend sleepless nights and accomplish anything: if, in my youth, my parents had not financed my insomnias, I should surely have killed myself.

We die in proportion to the words we fling around us.

Intelligence flourishes only in the ages when belief withers.