The Kafka Paradox: Art Depends On Truth,

One Morning, As Gregor Samsa Was Waking Up From Anxious Dreams, He Discovered That In His Bed He Had Been Changed Into A Monstrous Bug.

People Keep Themselves At A Tolerable Height Above An Infernal Abyss Toward Which They Gravitate Only By Putting Out All Their Strength And Lovingly Helping One Another. They Are Tied Together By Ropes, And It's Bad Enough When The Ropes Around An Individual Loosen And He Drops Somewhat Lower Than The Others Into Empty Space; Ghastly When The Ropes Break And He Falls. That's Why We Should Cling To The Others.

I, However, Cannot Force Myself To Use "meat Drugs" To Cheat On My Loneliness.

A Book Should Serve As An Axe To The Ice Inside Us.

Believing In Progress Does Not Mean Believing That Any Progress Has Yet Been Made.