Only For The Sake Of The Hopeless

Capitalism Is A Purely Cultic Religion, Perhaps The Most Extreme That Ever Existed.

It Is In A Small Village In The Pyrenees Where No One Knows Me 7that My Life Will Come To A Close.... There Is Not Enough Time Remaining For Me To Write All The Letters I Would Like To Write.

Boredom Is The Dream Bird That Hatches The Egg Of Experience. A Rustling In The Leaves Drives Him Away.

I Would Like To Metamorphose Into A Mouse-mountain.

In Every Case The Storyteller Is A Man Who Has Counsel For His Readers.