It Is Not A Woman I Want

People Are Machines Of Forgetfulness

It Was Suicide. Others Killed Themselves With Poison Or With A Revolver. I Killed Myself With Minutes And Hours.

I Believe That Around Us There Is Only One Word On All Sides, One Immense Word Which Reveals Our Solitude And Extinguishes Our Radiance: Nothing! I Believe That That Word Does Not Point To Our Insignificance Or Our Unhappiness, But On The Contrary To Our Fulfillment And Our Divinity, Since Everything Is In Ourselves.

I Believe, In Spite Of All, In Truth's Victory. I Believe In The Momentous Value, Hereafter Inviolable, Of Those Few Truly Fraternal Men In All The Countries Of The World, Who, In The Oscillation Of National Egoisms Let Loose, Stand Up And Stand Out, Steadfast As The Glorious Statues Of Right And Duty.

All Lovers In The World Are Alike: They Fall In Love By Chance; They See Each Other, And Are Attached To Each Other By The Features Of Their Faces; They Illuminate Each Other By The Fierce Preference Which Is Akin To Madness; They Assert The Reality Of Illusions; And For A Moment They Change Falsehood Into Truth.