There Is Only One Thing Worse Than

Our First Intuitions Are The True Ones.

Under Each Formula Lies A Corpse.

I Do Not Forgive Myself For Being Born. It Is As If Creeping Into This World, I Had Profaned A Mystery, Betrayed Some Momentous Pledge, Committed A Fault Of Nameless Gravity.

I Cannot Contribute Anything To This World Because I Only Have One Method: Agony.

Everything Turns On Pain; The Rest Is Accessory, Even Nonexistent, For We Remember Only What Hurts. Painful Sensations Being The Only Real Ones, It Is Virtually Useless To Experience Others.