Book: Gertrude

Life working a boring person, only interested in the biographies and destinies of idlers.

... real creativity makes alone and requires us to in some way depriving myself of life's pleasures.

... through life and people cannot be so simple, there is hatred, there is love, everything is mixed up, one beside the other, almost inseparable and almost indistinguishable moments.

I can neither live nor die. Everything, for what undertake, find it false and foolish.

You have a disease which, unfortunately, is now in fashion and that every day I meet intelligent people. Doctors, of course, know nothing about it. It is akin to moral insanity, it can also be called individualism or imaginary loneliness. Modern books are full of it. You're possessed of the fantasy that you are alone, no one is not interested in you, no one does not understand you. Someone who is already sitting the disease, quite a few disappointments, so he believed, though between them and other people do not exist any relations, except a misunderstanding and that everyone, in essence, walking through life in absolute solitude, that he will never be truly comprehensible to others, nothing to share with them and it is impossible to have anything in common. Sometimes even that such people become arrogant and believe all the other healthy people who are able to understand more or to love one another, for herd animals. If the disease became universal, mankind will inevitably become extinct.