Behind Everything We Feel, There Is Always

Killing Time Is The Chief End Of Our Society.

Who Cares About Great Marks Left Behind? We Have One Life... Just One. Our Life. We Have Nothing Else.

At Any Given Moment, I Open My Eyes And Exist. And Before That, During All Eternity, What Was There? Nothing.

Thought Itself Needs Words. It Runs On Them Like A Long Wire. And If It Loses The Habit Of Words, Little By Little It Becomes Shapeless, Somber.

Murderers, In General, Are People Who Are Consistent, People Who Are Obsessed With One Idea And Nothing Else.