Skepticism Is The Elegance Of Anxiety.

I Was Walking Late One Night Along A Tree-lined Path; A Chestnut Fell At My Feet. The Noise It Made As It Burst, The Resonance It Provoked In Me, And An Upheaval Out Of All Proportion To This Insignificant Event Thrust Me Into Miracle, Into The Rapture Of The Definitive, As If There Were No More Questions-only Answers. I Was Drunk On A Thousand Unexpected Discoveries, None Of Which I Could Make Use Of. ... This Is How I Nearly Reached The Supreme. But Instead I Went On With My Walk.

We Derive Our Vitality From Our Store Of Madness.

I Seem To Myself, Among Civilized Men, An Intruder, A Troglodyte Enamored Of Decrepitude, Plunged Into Subversive Prayers.

All Philosophers Should End Their Days At Pythia's Feet. There Is Only One Philosophy, That Of Unique Moments.

The Art Of Love: Knowing How To Combine The Temperament Of A Vampire With The Discretion Of An Anemone.