Reality Is A Prison, Where One Vegetates

A Man Is Never Completely Alone In This World. At The Worst, He Has The Company Of A Boy, A Youth, And By And By A Grown Man - The One He Used To Be.

It Is Not The Actual Enjoyment Of Pleasure That We Desire. What We Want Is To Test The Futility Of That Pleasure, So As To Be No Longer Obsessed By It.

A Corpse Is What's Left After Waking Too Often.

We Do Not Free Ourselves From Something By Avoiding It, But Only By Living Though It.

To Avenge A Wrong Done To You, Is To Rob Yourself Of The Comfort Of Crying Out Against The Injustice Of It.