You See, I'm Fond Of Teasing, It's

I Found The Human Heart Empty And Insipid Everywhere Except In Books.

It Is Enough That One Man Hate Another For Hate To Gain, Little By Little, All Mankind.

I Am No Longer Sure Of Anything. If I Satiate My Desires, I Sin But I Deliver Myself From Them; If I Refuse To Satisfy Them, They Infect The Whole Soul.

To Whomever Gives A Kiss Or A Blow Render A Kiss Or Blow But To Whomever Gives When You Are Unable To Return Offer All The Hatred In Your Heart For You Were Slaves And He Enslaves You

That Is Exactly The Writer's Problem. What Does Literature Stand For In A Hungry World?