I may die of earthly love, or of devotion.
I turned silences and nights into words. What was unutterable, I wrote down. I made the whirling world stand still.
Now I am an outcast. I loathe my country. The best thing for me is a drunken sleep on the beach.
Come from forever, and you will go everywhere.
I understand, and not knowing how to express myself without pagan words, I’d rather remain silent.
Yet this is the watch by night. Let us all accept new strength, and real tenderness. And at dawn, armed with glowing patience, we will enter the cities of glory.
Life is the farce which everyone has to perform.
Genius is the recovery of childhood at will.
Idle youth, enslaved to everything; by being too sensitive I have wasted my life.
I saw that all beings are fated to happiness: action is not life, but a way of wasting some force, an enervation. Morality is the weakness of the brain.
The northern lights rise like a kiss to the sea.
The Sun, the hearth of affection and life, pours burning love on the delighted earth.
Hay que ser absolutamente Moderno.
Is it in these bottomless nights that you sleep in exile?
But, truly, I have wept too much! The Dawns are heartbreaking. Every moon is atrocious and every sun bitter.
And again: No more gods! no more gods! Man is King, Man is God! – But the great Faith is Love!
And I am still alive-what though, my damnation is eternal. A man who deliberately mutilates himself is truly damned, is he not? I believe that I am in hell, therefore I am.
I wrote silences; nights; I recorded the unnameable.
I believe that I am in hell, therefore I am there.
No one’s serious at seventeen.