It Was Like Having A Box Of

My Passion For Sarah Had Killed Simple Lust Forever. Never Again Would I Be Able To Enjoy A Woman Without Love.

How Often The Priest Had Heard The Same Confession--man Was So Limited: He Hadn't Even The Ingenuity To Invent A New Vice: The Animals Knew As Much. It Was For This World That Christ Had Died: The More Evil You Saw And Heard About You, The Greater The Glory Lay Around The Death; It Was Too Easy To Die For What Was Good Or Beautiful, For Home Or Children Or Civilization--it Needed A God To Die For The Half-hearted And The Corrupt.

Its Typical Of Mexico, Of The Whole Human Race Perhaps — Violence In Favour Of An Ideal And Then The Ideal Lost But The Violence Just Going On.

Champagne, If You Are Seeking The Truth, Is Better Than A Lie Detector.

Reality In Our Century Is Not Something To Be Faced.