As long as I live I shall not allow myself to forget that I shall die; I am waiting for death so that I can forget about it. - Emil Cioran

Love of the absolute engenders a predilection for self-destruction. Hence the passion for monasteries and brothels. Cells and women, in both cases. Weariness with life fares well in the shadow of whores and saintly women.

If just once you were depressed for no reason, you have been so all your life without knowing.

Basically—I speak of life as it is and not of abstract philosophical constructs—life is only bearable because one does not go to the end; doing something is only possible when one has particular illusions and that holds also for friendships, for everything.