Each Of Us Is The Only Person

We Know Well Enough When We're Being Unjust And Despicable. But We Don't Restrain Ourselves Because We Experience A Certain Pleasure, A Primitive Sort Of Satisfaction In Moments Like That.

Sisterly Love Is, Of All Sentiments, The Most Abstract. Nature Does Not Grant It Any Functions.

There Is No Forgiveness In Nature.

Memories Are Like Stones, Time And Distance Erode Them Like Acid.

We Play Make Believe, Pretend To Take Ourselves And Each Other Seriously--to Love Each Other, Hate Each Other--but Then--it Isn't True. It Isn't True, We Don't Care At All!