Never Think That By Releasing Me You

What Is Man But A Little Soul Holding Up A Corpse?

To Say Nothing Of What You Lose, Lose, Lose, Are Losing, Man. You Fool, You Stupid Fool ... You've Even Been Insulated From The Responsibility Of Genuine Suffering ... Even The Suffering You Do Endure Is Largely Unnecessary. Actually Spurious. It Lacks The Very Basis You Require Of It For Its Tragic Nature. You Deceive Yourself.

The Consul Felt A Pang. Ah, To Have A Horse, And Gallop Away, Singing, To Someone You Loved Perhaps, Into The Heart Of All The Simplicity And Peace In The World; Was That Not Like The Opportunity Afforded Man By Life Itself? Of Course Not. Still, Just For A Moment, It Had Seemed That It Was.

Perhaps His Tragedy Is That He Is The One Normal Writer Left On Earth And It Is This That Adds To His Isolation And So To His Sense Of Guilt.

Never Think That By Releasing Me You Will Be Free. You Would Only Condemn Us To An Ultimate Hell On Earth. You Would Only Free Something Else To Destroy Us Both.