Smooth And Smiling Faces Everywhere, But Ruin

It Is Better; Heavier, Crueler. The Mouth You Wear For Hell.

Death Is A Continuation Of My Life Without Me.

I Don't Know. Everything. Living. Smoking.

In A Word, Man Must Create His Own Essence: It Is In Throwing Himself Into The World, Suffering There, Struggling There, That He Gradually Defines Himself.

So That Is What Hell Is. I Would Never Have Believed It. You Remember: The Fire And Brimstone, The Torture. Ah! The Farce. There Is No Need For Torture: Hell Is Other People.