The pessimist has to invent new reasons to exist every day: he is a victim of the "meaning" of life.

The aphorism is cultivated only by those who have known fear in the midst of words, that fear of collapsing with all the words.

If there is anyone who owes everything to Bach, it is certainly God.

The desire to die was my one and only concern; to it I have sacrificed everything, even death.

As incompetent in life as in death, I loathe myself and in this loathing I dream of another life, another death. And for having sought to be a sage such as never was, I am only a madman among the mad.

I thought that the only action a man could perform without shame was to take his life; that he had no right to diminish himself in the succession of days and the inertic of misery. No elect, I kept telling myself, but those who committed suicide.

I dream of wanting - and all I want seems to me worthless.

To repeat to yourself a thousand times a day: 'Nothing on Earth has any worth,' to keep finding yourself at the same point, to circle stupidly as a top, eternally...

Why do you lack the strength to escape the obligation to breathe?

Nothing is indefensible - from the absurdest proposition to the most monstrous crime.