Every Word Is A Preconceived Judgment.

My Genius Is In My Nostrils.

Woman Was God's Second Mistake.

The Form Of A Work Of Art, Which Gives Speech To Their Thoughts And Is, Therefore, Their Mode Of Talking, Is Always Somewhat Uncertain, Like All Kinds Of Speech.

But Anyone Who Has Really Made Sacrifices Knows That He Wanted And Got Something In Return Perhaps Something For Something Of Himself - That He Gave Up In Order To Have More Here Or At Least To Feel That He Has "more".

He Who Knoweth The Reader, Doeth Nothing More For The Reader. Another Century Of Readers - And Spirit Itself Will Stink.