With Rebellion, Awareness Is Born

There Is No Love Of Life Without Despair Of Life.

Absurd- That Is The Light Mind That Establishes Its Own Borders.

It's Not The Struggle That Makes Us Artists, But Art That Makes Us Struggle.

At That Moment He Knew What His Mother Was Thinking, And That She Loved Him. But He Knew, Too, That To Love Someone Means Relatively Little; Or, Rather, That Love Is Never Strong Enough To Find The Words Befitting It. Thus He And His Mother Would Always Love Each Other Silently. And One Day She--or He--would Die, Without Ever, All Their Lives Long, Having Gone Farther Than This By Way Of Making Their Affection Known.

On My Way Out I Was Even Going To Shake His Hand, But I Remembered Just In Time That I'd Killed A Man.