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I know things. And when I say we’re alone, we’re alone. Life is only on Earth, and not for long."
— Melancholia, Lars von Trier
You had felt idle in this city through which you had paced only to kill time. But the emptiness that you believed yourself confronted with was an illusion: you had filled those moments with sensations all the more powerful in that nothing and no one had distracted you from them."
— Suicide, Édouard Levé
Facing your mirror, happy or carefree, you were someone. Unhappy, you weren’t anyone any longer: the lines of your face would fade: you would recognise what you habitually used to call ‘me,’ but you would see someone else looking at you. Your gaze would sweep across your face as if it were made of air: the eyes opposite you would be unfathomable. To animate your features with a wink or a grimace would be of no help: deprived of reason, the expression would be artificial."
— Suicide, Édouard Levé
There is no god, no universe, no human race, no earthly life, no heaven, no hell. It is all a dream - a grotesque and foolish dream. Nothing exists but you. And you are but a thought - a vagrant thought, a useless thought, a homeless thought, wandering forlorn among the empty eternities."
— The Mysterious Stranger, Mark Twain
No, vertigo is something other than fear of falling. It is the voice of the emptiness below us which tempts and lures us; it is the desire to fall, against which, terrified, we defend ourselves."
— The Unbearable Lightness of Being, Milan Kundera
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