Life's True Face Is The Skull.

Within This Arena, Which Grows More Stable Night After Day, Generations Work And Love And Hope And Vanish. New Generations Tread On The Corpses Of Their Fathers, Continue The Work Above The Abyss And Struggle To Tame The Dread Mystery. How? By Cultivating A Single Field, By Kissing A Woman, By Studying A Stone, An Animal, An Idea.

So Few In Reality Are The True Necessities Of Man

Before Me Is The Abyss. How Can I Leap Across It? And If I Do Not Leap, How Shall I Ever Be Able To Reach God?

As Long As There Are Flowers And Children And Birds In The World, Have No Fears: Everything Will Be Fine.

The Struggle Between God And Man Breaks Out In Everyone, Together With The Longing For Reconciliation. Most Often This Struggle Is Unconscious And Short-lived. A Weak Soul Does Not Have The Endurance To Resist The Flesh For Very Long. It Grows Heavy, Becomes Flesh Itself, And The Contest Ends. But Among Responsible Men, Men Who Keep Their Eyes Riveted Day And Night Upon The Supreme Duty, The Conflict Between Flesh And Spirit Breaks Out Mercilessly And May Last Until Death.