The Man, The Writer, The

If We Have No Other Reality Beyond The Illusion, You Too Must Not Count Overmuch On Your Reality As You Feel It Today, Since, Like That Of Yesterday, It May Prove An Illusion For You Tomorrow.

It Is Misery, You Know, Unspeakable Misery For The Man Who Lives Alone And Who Detests Sordid, Casual Affairs; Not Old Enough To Do Without Women, But Not Young Enough To Be Able To Go And Look For One Without Shame!

Every True Man, Sir, Who Is A Little Above The Level Of The Beasts And Plants Does Not Live For The Sake Of Living, Without Knowing How To Live; But He Lives So As To Give A Meaning And A Value Of His Own To Life.

Blind Yourself, For I Am Blind.

My Opinion Is A View I Hold Until... Well, Until I Find Something That Changes It.