There Can Be No Creator, Simply Because

A Person Often Falls Very Ill In Order To Become Someone Else And Then Returns To Health Much Disappointed.

The Act Of Naming Is The Great And Solemn Consolation Of Mankind

Slumbering In Every Human Being Lies An Infinity Of Possibilities, Which One Must Not Arouse In Vain. For It Is Terrible When The Whole Man Resonates With Echoes And Echoes, None Becoming A Real Voice.

One Has A Prejudice Wherever One Fears A Transformation.

As If One Could Know The Good A Person Is Capable Of, When One Doesn't Know The Bad He Might Do.