Work to survive, survive by consuming, survive to consume: the hellish cycle is complete.

Because of its increasing triviality, everyday life has gradually become our central preoccupation.

We live our roles better than our own lives.

God cannot know anything, will anything or do anything without me. With God I created myself, I created all things, and my hand holds up heaven, earth and all the creatures of the earth. Without me there is nothing.

Identification with an ethnic or national community, with a religion, ideology, or any abstraction is nothing but a blood-soaked delusion.

Any remnants of passionate tension between sexual pleasure and the adventurous quest for it are fast disintegrating into a panting succession of mechanically repeated gestures whose rhythm offers no hope of approaching so much as a semblance of orgasm. The quantitative Eros of speed, rapid change, and love-against-the-clock everywhere disfigures the face of real pleasure.

It is much more a lack of fun which batters us than over abundance and indulgence.

Oppression is no longer centralized, for it is everywhere. The positive aspect of this disintegration is that everyone begins to see, in their state of almost complete isolation, that they must first save themselves, make themselves the centre, and from their own subjectivity build a world where they can be at home anywhere.

The feeling of ‘having done one’s duty’ makes everyone into their own honourable executioner.

Those whom Power can neither govern nor kill, it taxes with madness.