There Are Those Who Go To The

I Myself Spent Nine Years In An Insane Asylum And I Never Had The Obsession Of Suicide, But I Know That Each Conversation With A Psychiatrist, Every Morning At The Time Of His Visit, Made Me Want To Hang Myself, Realizing That I Would Not Be Able To Cut His Throat.

However Fiercely Opposed One May Be To The Present Order, An Old Respect For The Idea Of Order Itself Often Prevents People From Distinguishing Between Order And Those Who Stand For Order, And Leads Them In Practice To Respect Individuals Under The Pretext Of Respecting Order Itself.

Tragedy On The Stage Is No Longer Enough For Me, I Shall Bring It Into My Own Life.

I See In The Act Of Throwing The Dice And Of Risking The Affirmation Of Some Intuitively Felt Truth, However Uncertain, My Whole Reason For Living.

These Terrifying Forms Which Advance On Me, I Feel That The Despair They Bring Is Alive. It Slips Into This Nucleus Of Life Beyond Which The Paths Of Eternity Extend. It Is Truly An Eternal Separation. They Slip Their Knives Into This Center Where I Feel Myself A Man, They Sever Those Vital Ties Which Bind Me To The Dream Of My Lucid Reality.