To be away from home and yet to feel oneself everywhere at home; to see the world, to be at the centre of the world, and yet to remain hidden from the world – impartial natures which the tongue can but clumsily define. The spectator is a prince who everywhere rejoices in his incognito.
It always seems to me that I should feel well in the place where I am not.
Je ne suis pas le Styx pour t’embrasser neuf fois.
Listen, my dear – with soft step the night hears.
Avalanche, veux-tu m’emporter dans ta chute?
We are weighed down, every moment, by the conception and the sensation of Time. And there are but two means of escaping and forgetting this nightmare: pleasure and work. Pleasure consumes us. Work strengthens us. Let us choose.