The Devil, You See, Is That Friend

When Writing Of Oneself One Should Show No Mercy. Yet Why At The First Attempt To Discover One's Own Truth Does All Inner Strength Seem To Melt Away In Floods Of Self-pity And Tenderness And Rising Tears?

Lust Is A Mysterious Wound In The Side Of Humanity; Or Rather, At The Very Source Of Its Life! To Confound This Lust In Man With That Desire Which Unites The Sexes Is Like Confusing A Tumor With The Very Organ Which It Devours, A Tumor Whose Very Deformity Horribly Reproduces The Shape.

The First Sign Of Corruption In A Society That Is Still Alive Is That The End Justifies The Means.

A Man Given To Vice Is Always An Idealist.

Hope Is A Risk That Must Be Run.