In Reality, The Monotheist Texts Preach Neither

I Tend To Think That Good And Evil Exist And That The Quantity In Each Of Us Is Unchangeable. The Moral Character Of People Is Set, Fixed Until Death.

I Think That If I Am Notorious, It Is Because Other People Have Decided That This Is How I Should Be.

I've Lived So Little That I Tend To Imagine I'm Not Going To Die; It Seems Improbable That Human Existence Can Be Reduced To So Little; One Imagines, In Spite Of Oneself, That Sooner Or Later Something Is Bound To Happen. A Big Mistake. A Life Can Just As Well Be Both Empty And Short. The Days Slip By Indifferently, Leaving Neither Trace Nor Memory; And Then All Of A Sudden They Stop.

In Reality, The Monotheist Texts Preach Neither Peace, Love Nor Tolerance. They Are Texts Of Hate.

It's A Curious Idea To Reproduce When You Don't Even Like Life.