I Abandon Myself To The Fever Of

I Cannot Conceive Any Work Of Art As Having A Separate Existence From Life Itself

It Is Almost Impossible To Be A Doctor And An Honest Man, But It Is Obscenely Impossible To Be A Psychiatrist Without At The Same Time Bearing The Stamp Of The Most Incontestable Madness: That Of Being Unable To Resist That Old Atavistic Reflex Of The Mass Of Humanity, Which Makes Any Man Of Science Who Is Absorbed By This Mass A Kind Of Natural And Inborn Enemy Of All Genius.

It Is Not Opium Which Makes Me Work But Its Absence, And In Order For Me To Feel Its Absence It Must From Time To Time Be Present.

The Idea Of A Detached Art, Of Poetry As A Charm Which Exists Only To Distract Our Leisure, Is A Decadent Idea And An Unmistakable Symptom Of Our Power To Castrate.

There Are Souls That Are Incurable And Lost To The Rest Of Society. Deprive Them Of One Means Of Folly, They Will Invent Ten Thousand Others. They Will Create Subtler, Wilder Methods, Methods That Are Absolutely Desperate. Nature Herself Is Fundamentally Antisocial, It Is Only By A Usurpation Of Powers That The Organized Body Of Society Opposes The Natural Inclination Of Humanity.