Our First Intuitions Are The True Ones.

Music Is The Refuge Of Souls Ulcerated By Happiness.

Knowledge, Having Irritated And Stimulated Our Appetite For Power, Will Lead Us Inexorably To Our Ruin.

What Are You Waiting For In Order To Give Up?

To Write Books Is To Have A Certain Relation With Original Sin. For What Is A Book If Not A Loss Of Innocence, An Act Of Aggression, A Repetition Of Our Fall?

Woes And Wonders Of Power, That Tonic Hell, Synthesis Of Poison And Panacea.