Humanitarianism Is Rude.

The Chill Of What I Won't Feel Gnaws At My Present Heart.

There's A Non-existent Peace In The Uncertain Quietness

I've Always Rejected Being Understood. To Be Understood Is To Prostitute Oneself. I Prefer To Be Taken Seriously For What I'm Not, Remaining Humanly Unknown, With Naturalness And All Due Respect

What's Most Worthless About Dreams Is That Everybody Has Them.

I Realize That I Was All Error And Deviation, That I Never Lived, That I Existed Only In So Far As I Filled Time With Consciousness And Thought.