The Purpose Of A Writer Is To

The First Progressive Step For A Mind Overwhelmed By The Strangeness Of Things Is To Realize That This Feeling Of Strangeness Is Shared With All Men And That Human Reality, In Its Entirety, Suffers From The Distance Which Separates It From The Rest Of The Universe.

But Who Would Dare Condemn Me In This World With No Judges, Where No One Is Innocent!

What Is Called A Reason For Living Is Also An Excellent Reason For Dying.

Alas, After A Certain Age Every Man Is Responsible For His Face.

Because There Is Nothing Here Than Invites Us To Cherish Unhappy Lovers. Nothing Is More Vain Than To Die For Love. What We Ought To Do Is Live.