Fiction Is History, Human History, Or It

The Conquest Of The Earth... Is Not A Pretty Thing When You Look Into It Too Much. What Redeems It Is The Idea Only... Not A Sentimental Pretence But An Idea.

We Live As We Dream - Alone. While The Dream Disappears, The Life Continues Painfully.

It's Only Those Who Do Nothing That Make No Mistakes, I Suppose.

I Found Myself Back In The Sepulchral City Resenting The Sight Of People Hurrying Through The Streets To Filch A Little Money From Each Other, To Devour Their Infamous Cookery, To Gulp Their Unwholesome Beer, To Dream Their Insignificant And Silly Dreams. They Trespassed Upon My Thoughts.

Action Is Consolatory. It Is The Enemy Of Thought And The Friend Of Flattering Illusions.