Idleness Is Fatal Only To The Mediocre.

And Indeed It Could Be Said That Once The Faintest Stirring Of Hope Became Possible, The Dominion Of Plague Was Ended.

We Are All Special Cases.

Seeking What Is True Is Not Seeking What Is Desirable.

If The World Were Clear, Art Would Not Exist.

What, In Fact, Is A Novel But A Universe In Which Action Is Endowed With Form, Where Final Words Are Pronounced, Where People Possess One Another Completely, And Where Life Assumes The Aspect Of Destiny?