Is There Really Nothing, Nothing Left Of

The More One Is Absorbed In Fighting Evil, The Less One Is Tempted To Place The Good In Question.

Intellectuals Cannot Be Good Revolutionaries; They Are Just Good Enough To Be Assassins.

I Had Spent My Time Counterfeiting Eternity.

Through The Lack Of Attaching Myself To Words, My Thoughts Remain Nebulous Most Of The Time. They Sketch Vague, Pleasant Shapes And Then Are Swallowed Up; I Forget Them Almost Immediately.

Acting Is Happy Agony.