The Most Appropriate Type Of Daily Life

Living Is Merely The Chaos Of Existence.

The Mind, By Its Very Nature, Persistently Tries To Live Forever, Resisting Age And Attempting To Give Itself A Form... . When A Person Passes His Prime And His Life Begins To Lose True Vigor And Charm, His Mind Starts Functioning As If It Were Another Form Of Life; It Imitates What Life Does, Eventually Doing What Life Cannot Do.

Is There Not A Sort Of Remorse That Precedes Sin? Was It Remorse At The Very Fact That I Existed?

We Live In An Age In Which There Is No Heroic Death.

When People Concentrate On The Idea Of Beauty, They Are, Without Realizing It, Confronted With The Darkest Thoughts That Exist In This World. That, I Suppose, Is How Human Beings Are Made.