Celine, letter to his first wife.

“It is unfortunate for men, perhaps fortunate for tyrants, that the poor, the unhappy, have not the instinct or pride of the elephant which refuses to breed in servitude.” —Chamfort

Vauvenargues on reading Plutarch's Lives at 16 years of age and seeing a vision of a higher, nobler life: “I cried with joy when I read those Lives; not a night went by without my conversing with Alcibiades, Agesilaus, and others. I would go into the public square of Rome to...

The only two counsels my father ever gave me: 1. Never marry; love sparingly, if at all. 2. Kill yourself at twenty, or don't bother. “A man of forty hanging himself is comical — what happened, did he get bored or was he just a life-long procrastinator?” he said to me sternly

“when I die... erect a monument to honor my contempt...”

“But women aren't just bodies!... boor! they're ‘companions’ as well! what of their charms, their grace, their twitterings? sure, sure! if suicide appeals to you...” North

No one genuinely interested in literature has ever joined a “book club”

Book clubs relegate literature to a worthless exercise of empty sociability, which only appeals to women and fаɡɡоtѕ for whom “reading” means glazing over “reputable works” with a bovine gaze for gossip and public spectacle.

Flaubert's friend Maxime Du Camp recounts a walk the two men took through the ruins of Paris left by the Commune: “As we were looking at the blackened carcass of the Tuileries, he said to me: ‘If they had understood Sentimental Education, none of this would have happened.’”

“Exiiile… Where’s the clothing line I was promised last year?”

"... We will erase everything that exists in the name of Racial Communism..." "... BOX ME..."

“... I asked Torch the Earth for appetite suppression tips while cutting and he sent me a pic of a putrifying obese Negro cadaver...”

Bold.