A Man's Work Is Nothing But This

Man Is Always Prey To His Truths. Once He Has Admitted Them, He Cannot Free Himself From Them.

We Are Rebels For A Cause, Poets With A Dream , And We Won't Let This World Die Without A Fight.

In Our Wildest Aberrations We Dream Of An Equilibrium We Have Left Behind And Which We Naively Expect To Find At The End Of Our Errors. Childish Presumption Which Justifies The Fact That Child-nations, Inheriting Our Follies, Are Now Directing Our History.

Thinking Of The Future, Establishing Aims For Oneself, Having Preferences-all This Presupposes A Belief In Freedom, Even If One Occasionally Ascertains That One Doesn't Feel It.

Stupidity Has A Knack Of Getting Its Way.