How Cruel My Suffering Is,—no One Is

The Emotional Element Which Gives An Obsessive Value To Communal Existence Is Death.

The Great Monuments Are Raised Up Like Dams, Pitting The Logic Of Majesty And Authority Against All The Shady Elements: It Is In The Form Of Cathedrals And Palaces That Church And State Speak And Impose Silence On The Multitudes.

The Owl Flies, In The Moonlight, Over A Field Where The Wounded Cry Out. Like The Owl, I Fly In The Night Over My Own Misfortune.

Nothing Is More Necessary Or Stronger In Us Than Rebellion.

You Perhaps Now Know That Desire Reduces Us To Pulp.