Human Beings Have Their Great Chance In

Pathos, Piety, Courage, They Exist, But Are Identical, And So Is Filth. Everything Exists, Nothing Has Value.

They Had Nothing In Common But The English Language.

A Mirror Does Not Develop Because An Historical Pageant Passes In Front Of It. It Only Develops When It Gets A Fresh Coat Of Quicksilver In Other Words, When It Acquires New Sensitiveness; And The Novel's Success Lies In Its Own Sensitiveness, Not In The Success Of Its Subject Matter.

Our Final Experience, Like Our First, Is Conjectural. We Move Between Two Darkness's.

Lord I Disbelieve - Help Thou My Unbelief.