Life Is Pain And The Enjoyment Of

Things Are Revealed Through The Memories We Have Of Them. Remembering A Thing Means Seeing It Only Then For The First Time.

Reality Is A Prison, Where One Vegetates And Always Will. All The Rest - Thought, Action - Is Just A Pastime, Mental Or Physical. What Counts Then, Is To Come To Grips With Reality. The Rest Can Go.

There Is No Finer Revenge Than That Which Others Inflict On Your Enemy. Moreover, It Has The Advantage Of Leaving You The Role Of A Generous Man.

At Great Periods You Have Always Felt, Deep Within You, The Temptation To Commit Suicide. You Gave Yourself To It, Breached Your Own Defenses. You Were A Child. The Idea Of Suicide Was A Protest Against Life; By Dying, You Would Escape This Longing For Death.

Maybe It's Better Like This, Better That Everything Should Go Up In A Blaze Of Dry Grass And That People Should Begin Again.