I Am Like A Broken Puppet Whose

By All Evidence We Are In The World To Do Nothing; But Instead Of Nonchalantly Promenading Our Own Corruption, We Exude Our Sweat And Grow Winded Upon The Fetid Air.

Doubt Works Deep Within You Like A Disease Or, Even More Effectively, Like A Faith.

The Premonition Of Madness Is Complicated By The Fear Of Lucidity In Madness, The Fear Of The Moments Of Return And Reunion... One Would Welcome Chaos If One Were Not Afraid Of Lights In It.

I Foresee The Day When We Shall Read Nothing But Telegrams And Prayers.

If We Manage To Last In Spite Of Everything, It Is Because Our Infirmities Are So Many And So Contradictory That They Cancel Each Other Out.