Most Religions Do Not Make Men Better,

I Want To Keep Smashing Myself Until I Am Whole.

In Five Minutes The Earth Would Be A Desert, And You Cling To Books.

The Profoundest Thoughts Of The Philosophers Have Something Trickle About Them. A Lot Disappears In Order For Something To Suddenly Appear In The Palm Of The Hand.

His Head Is Made Of Stars, But Not Yet Arranged Into Constellations.

I Would Like To Become Tolerant Without Overlooking Anything, Persecute No One Even When All People Persecute Me; Become Better Without Noticing It; Become Sadder, But Enjoy Living; Become More Serene, Be Happy In Others; Belong To No One, Grow In Everyone; Love The Best, Comfort The Worst; Not Even Hate Myself Anymore.