It Is The Business Of The Very

I Too Have Been In The Underworld, As Was Odysseus, And I Will Often Be There Again; Not Only Sheep Have I Sacrificed So As To Beable To Speak With A Few Dead Souls, But Neither Have I Spared My Own Blood As Well.

He Who Obeys, Does Not Listen To Himself!

Out Of Damp And Gloomy Days, Out Of Solitude, Out Of Loveless Words Directed At Us, Conclusions Grow Up In Us Like Fungus: One Morning They Are There, We Know Not How, And They Gaze Upon Us, Morose And Gray. Woe To The Thinker Who Is Not The Gardener But Only The Soil Of The Plants That Grow In Him.

The More You Let Yourself Go, The Less Others Let You Go.

Those That Achieve Anything That Looks Beyond The Vision And Thinking Of Their Peers Provoke Jealousy And Hatred Disguised As The Ordinary.