You Are Quite Unnecessary, Young Man!

With Society And Its Public, There Is No Longer Any Other Language Than That Of Bombs, Barricades, And All That Follows.

No One Has Ever Written, Painted, Sculpted, Modeled, Built, Or Invented Except Literally To Get Out Of Hell.

I Would Like To Write A Book Which Would Drive Men Mad, Which Would Be Like An Open Door Leading Them Where They Would Never Have Consented To Go, In Short, A Door That Opens Onto Reality.

I Know Each Conversation With A Psychiatrist In The Morning Made Me Want To Hang Myself Because I Knew I Could Not Strangle Him.

I Am Stigmatized By A Living Death In Which Real Death Holds No Terrors For Me.