Life creates itself in delirium and is undone in ennui.

Ennui is the echo in us of time tearing itself apart.

Between Ennui and Ecstasy unwinds our whole experience of time.

Since all life is futility, then the decision to exist must be the most irrational of all.

Life is merely a fracas on an unmapped terrain, and the universe a geometry stricken with epilepsy.

In most cases we attach ourselves to God in order to take revenge on life, to punish it, to signify we can do without it, that we have found something better, and we also attach ourselves to God in horror of men.