A Work Of Art Is A Confession.

In A World That Has Ceased To Believe In Sin, The Artist Is Responsible For The Preaching.

After All, Every Murderer When He Kills Runs The Risk Of The Most Dreadful Of Deaths, Whereas Those Who Kill Him Risk Nothing Except Promotion.

Mother Died Today. Or Maybe Yesterday; I Can't Be Sure.

The Certainty Of A God Giving Meaning To Life Far Surpasses In Attractiveness The Ability To Behave Badly With Impunity. The Choice Would Not Be Hard To Make. But There Is No Choice And That Is Where The Bitterness Comes In. The Absurd Does Not Liberate; It Binds.

To Be Famous, In Fact, One Has Only To Kill One's Landlady.