God Sends Rain, But He

I Hate All Virtues Based On Food And Bloated Bellies; Though Food And Drink Are Good, I'm Better Slaked And Fed By That Inhuman Flame Which Burns In Our Black Bowels. I Like To Name That Flame Which Burns Within Me God!

All The Political, Social, And Economic Improvements, All The Technical Progress Cannot Have Any Regenerating Significance, So Long As Our Inner Life Remains As It Is At Present. The More The Intelligence Unveils And Violates The Secrets Of Nature, The More The Danger Increases And The Heart Shrinks.

Since We Cannot Change Reality, Let Us Change The Eyes Which See Reality.

Die Every Day. Be Reborn Again Every Day.

I Felt Once More How Simple And Frugal A Thing Is Happiness: A Glass Of Wine, A Roast Chestnut, A Wretched Little Brazier, The Sound Of The Sea. Nothing Else.