I Hate You, God. I Hate You

God Save Us Always,' I Said 'from The Innocent And The Good.

The Sense Of Unhappiness Is So Much Easier To Convey Than That Of Happiness. In Misery We Seem Aware Of Our Own Existence, Even Though It May Be In The Form Of A Monstrous Egotism: This Pain Of Mine Is Individual, This Nerve That Winces Belongs To Me And To No Other. But Happiness Annihilates Us: We Lose Our Identity.

Sweet Are The Thoughts That Savor Of Content: The Quiet Mind Is Richer Than A Crown.

The Argument Of Danger Only Applies To Those Who Live In Relative Safety.

I Could Never Have Been A Pacifist. To Kill A Man Was Surely To Grant Him An Immeasurable Benefit. Oh Yes, People Always, Everywhere, Loved Their Enemies. It Was Their Friends They Preserved For Pain And Vacuity.