Sometimes I Wish I Were A Cannibal

What Is Pity But The Vice Of Kindness.

Transmitting One's Flaws [through Procreation] To Someone Else Is A Crime. I Could Never Consent To Give Life To Someone Who Would Inherent My Ailments.

Tyrants Are Always Assassinated Too Late. That Is Their Great Excuse.

I Foresee The Day When We Shall Read Nothing But Telegrams And Prayers.

To Exist Is Equivalent To An Act Of Faith, A Protest Against The Truth, An Interminable Prayer. As Soon As They Consent To Live, The Unbeliever And The Man Of Faith Are Fundamentally The Same, Since Both Have Made The Only Decision That Defines A Being.