As Long As The Writer

At Times Discreetly, At Times Disgustingly, I Yielded To The Most Fatal Temptation Whenever I Could No Longer Bear It: As A Result Of Impatience, Orpheus Lost Eurydice; As A Result Of Impatience, I Lost Myself.

There Is No Human Nature, Since There Is No God To Conceive It.

In Guinea I Could Read [franz] Kafka. I Re-discover In Him My Own Discomfort.

There Is Only One Day Left, Always Starting Over: It Is Given To Us At Dawn And Taken Away From Us At Dusk.

Ah! Do Not Judge The Gods, Young Man, They Have Painful Secrets.