The Wreckage Of Stars - I Built

The Governments Of The Great States Have Two Instruments For Keeping The People Dependent, In Fear And Obedience: A Coarser, The Army; And A More Refined, The School.

Pain Makes Hens And Poets Cackle.

Such Men Alone Are My Readers, My Proper Readers, My Preordained Readers. Of What Account Are The Rest? The Rest Are Simply... Humanity. One Must Be Superior To Humanity In Power, In Loftiness Of Soul- In Contempt.

The Slow Arrow Of Beauty. The Noblest Kind Of Beauty Is That Which Does Not Transport Us Suddenly, Which Does Not Make Stormy And Intoxicating Impressions Such A Kind Easily Arouses Disgust But That Which Slowly Filters Into Our Minds.

You Are Treading The Path To Your Greatness: No One Shall Follow You Here! Your Passage Has Effaced The Path Behind You, And Above That Path Stands Written: Impossibility.