Crime Too Is A Form Of Solitude,

The End Of Their Passion Consists Of Loving Uselessly At The Moment When It Is Pointless.

Thus, I Always Began By Assuming The Worst; My Appeal Was Dismissed. That Meant, Of Course, I Was To Die. Sooner Than Others, Obviously. 'but,' I Reminded Myself, 'it's Common Knowledge That Life Isn't Worth Living, Anyhow.' And, On A Wide View, I Could See That It Makes Little Difference Whether One Dies At The Age Of Thirty Or Threescore And Ten-- Since, In Either Case, Other Men Will Continue Living, The World Will Go On As Before. Also, Whether I Died Now Or Forty Years Hence, This Business Of Dying Had To Be Got Through, Inevitably.

How Hard It Must Be To Live Only With What One Knows And What One Remembers, Cut Off From What One Hopes For!

Our Reason Has Driven All Away. Alone At Last, We End Up Ruling Over A Desert.

Every Revolutionary Ends Up Either By Becoming An Oppressor Or A Heretic.