A Man Given To Vice Is Always

The World Is Eaten Up By Boredom. You Can't See It All At Once. It Is Like Dust. You Go About And Never Notice, You Breathe It In, You Eat And Drink It. It Is Sifted So Fine, It Doesn't Even Grit On Your Teeth. But Stand Still For An Instant And There It Is, Coating Your Face And Hands.

And What Have You Laymen Made Of Hell? A Kind Of Penal Servitude For Eternity, On The Lines Of Your Convict Prisons On Earth, To Which You Condemn In Advance All The Wretched Felons Your Police Have Hunted From The Beginning - Enemies Of Society, As You Call Them. You're Kind Enough To Include The Blasphemers And The Profane. What Proud Or Reasonable Man Could Stomach Such A Notion Of God's Justice? And When You Find That Notion Inconvenient It's Easy Enough For You To Put It On One Side. Hell Is Not To Love Any More, Madame. Not To Love Any More!

I Know The Compassion Of Others Is A Relief At First. I Don't Despise It. But It Can't Quench Pain, It Slips Through Your Soul As Through A Sieve. And When Our Suffering Has Been Dragged From One Pity To Another, As From One Mouth To Another, We Can No Longer Respect Or Love It.

Suicide Only Really Frightens Those Who Are Never Tempted By It And Never Will Be, For Its Darkness Only Welcomes Those Who Are Predestined To It.

Appearances Are Nothing.... And First Of All They Should Not Be Feared, They Are Only Dangerous To The Weak.