In every man sleeps a prophet, and when he wakes there is a little more evil in the world.
From Emile M. Cioran
Under each formula lies a corpse.
No one recovers from the disease of being born, a deadly wound if there ever was one.
What would be left of our tragedies if an insect were to present us his?
Woes and wonders of Power, that tonic hell, synthesis of poison and panacea.
Word - that invisible dagger.
We would not be interested in human beings if we did not have the hope of someday meeting someone worse off than ourselves.
The fact that life has no meaning is a reason to live - moreover, the only one.
We understand God by everything in ourselves that is fragmentary, incomplete, and inopportune.
Our first intuitions are the true ones.
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