I Suppose It Is Out

Like Morality, Literature Needs To Be Universal. So That The Writer Must Put Himself On The Side Of The Majority, Of The Two Billion Starving, If He Wishes To Be Able To Speak To All And Be Read By All. Failing That, He Is At The Service Of A Privileged Class And, Like It, An Exploiter.

To Believe Is To Know You Believe, And To Know You Believe Is Not To Believe.

I Have No Need For Good Souls: An Accomplice Is What I Wanted.

As For Me, I Am Mean: That Means That I Need The Suffering Of Others To Exist. A Flame. A Flame In Their Hearts. When I Am All Alone, I Am Extinguished.

As If There Could Be True Stories: Things Happen In One Way, And We Retell Them In The Opposite Way.