"What would be left of our tragedies if an insect were to present us his?" — Emil Cioran

Society is not a disease, it is a disaster. What a stupid miracle that one can live in it.

However much I have frequented the mystics, deep down I have always sided with the Devil; unable to equal him in power, I have tried to be worthy of him, at least, in insolence, acrimony, arbitrariness and caprice.

Intelligence flourishes only in the ages when belief withers.

Life is possible only by the deficiencies of our imagination and memory.