Death Is Just Infinity Closing In.

Art Is Endless Like A River Flowing, Passing, Yet Remaining.

When I Wake Up, I Wake To Something Worse. It’s The Astonishment Of Being Myself

There Is No Intellectual Exercise Which Is Not Ultimately Useless.

You Who Read Me, Are You Sure Of Understanding My Language?

In All Fiction, When A Man Is Faced With Alternatives He Chooses One At The Expense Of Others.