Rob the average man of his life-illusion, and you rob him of his happiness at the same stroke.
Decidedly it will never have been given to me to finish anything, except perhaps breathing. One must not be greedy.
Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try Again. Fail again. Fail better.
Don't look for meaning in the words. Listen to the silences.
Words and images run riot in my head, pursuing, flying, clashing, merging, endlessly. But beyond this tumult there is a great calm, and a great indifference, never really to be troubled by anything again.
That's the mistake I made, one of the mistakes, to have wanted a story for myself, whereas life alone is enough.
Perhaps that's what I feel, an outside and an inside and me in the middle, perhaps that's what I am, the thing that divides the world in two, on the one side the outside, on the other the inside, that can be as thin as foil, I'm neither one side nor the other, I'm in the middle, I'm the partition, I've two surfaces and no thickness, perhaps that's what I feel, myself vibrating, I'm the tympanum, on the one hand the mind, on the other the world, I don't belong to either.
I want to unfold. I don’t want to stay folded anywhere, because where I am folded, there I am a lie.
People say, 'The government couldn't carry out the September 11th attack, it's too big, they'd get caught!' They DID get caught! They're just counting on you to be dumb and to go along with it.
EVERY ENDING IS A NEW BEGINNING. YOUR LUCKY NUMBER IS NONE. YOUR LUCKY COLOUR IS DEAD. Motto: LIKE FATHER, LIKE SON.
Teach what is inside you. Not as it applies to you, to yourself, but as it applies to the other.