Life Hurls Us Like A Stone, And

In This Metallic Age Of Barbarians, Only A Relentless Cultivation Of Our Ability To Dream, To Analyse And To Captivate Can Prevent Our Personality From Degenerating Into Nothing Or Else Into A Personality Like All The Rest.

If We Knew The Truth, We'd See It; All Else Is System And Outskirts.

There Is No Safe Standard To Tell Man From Animals.

There Is No Happiness Without Knowledge. But Knowledge Of Happiness Is Unhappy; For Knowing Ourselves Happy Is Knowing Ourselves Passing Through Happiness, And Having To, Immediatly At Once, Leave It Behind. To Know Is To Kill, In Happiness As In Everything. Not To Know, Though, Is Not To Exist.

I’m Losing My Taste For Everything, Including Even My Taste For Finding Everything Tasteless.