Man's Passion For Truth Is Such That

I Thought My Fire Was Out, And Stirred The Ashes…. I Burnt My Fingers.

The Unpublished Manuscript Is Like An Uncon-fessed Sin That Festers In The Soul, Corrupting And Contaminating It.

There Is No One So Bound To His Own Face That He Does Not Cherish The Hope Of Presenting Another To The World.

Wherever Learning Breeds Specialists, The Sum Of Human Culture Is Enhanced Thereby. That Is The Illusion And Consolation Of Specialists.

Hell Is The Bloodcurdling Mansion Of Time, In Whose Profoundest Circle Satan Himself Waits, Winding A Gargantuan Watch In His Hand.