I Had Spent My Time Counterfeiting Eternity.

I Wanted My Own Words. But The Ones I Use Have Dragged Through I Don't Know How Many Consciences.

The Poor Don't Know That Their Function In Life Is To Exercise Our Generosity.

It Is Enough That One Man Hate Another For Hate To Gain, Little By Little, All Mankind.

Nothingness Lies Coiled In The Heart Of Being - Like A Worm.

Everything In My Past, In My Training, Everything That Has Been Most Essential In My Activity Up To Now Has Made Me Above All A Man Who Writes, And It Is Too Late For That To Change.