It is rare that the feeling of absurdity is not followed by the feeling of necessity … it is rare that the feeling of 
necessity is not followed by the feeling of absurdity.
Don't wait to be hunted to hide, that's always been my motto.
Dear incomprehension, it’s thanks to you I’ll be myself, in the end.
The tears stream down my cheeks from my unblinking eyes. What makes me weep so? From time to time. There is nothing saddening here. Perhaps it is liquefied brain.
All I know is what the words know, and dead things, and that makes a handsome little sum, with a beginning and a middle and an end, as in the well-built phrase and the long sonata of the dead.
Birth was the death of him.
Do we mean love, when we say love?
Let me go to hell, that's all I ask, and go on cursing them there, and them look down and hear me, that might take some of the shine off their bliss.
No, I regret nothing, all I regret is having been born, dying is such a long tiresome business I always found.