[t]he Cradle Is Shallower Than The Grave.

You Owe It To Everyone You Love To Find Pockets Of Tranquility In Your Busy World.

Our Rages, Daughters Of Despair, Creep And Squirm Like Worms. Prayer Is The Only Form Of Revolt Which Remains Upright.

The Modern State No Longer Has Anything But Rights; It Does Not Recognize Duties Any More.

No One Ever Discovers The Depths Of His Own Loneliness.

Hell, Madame, Is To Love No Longer.