...he Was Just Scraps Of Words And

One Day You're Cut Off, At The Very Start You're Cut Off And Can't Go Back, The Language You Learn And The Whole Business Of Walking And All The Rest Is For The Sake Of The Single Thought, How To Get Back Again.

I Had To Spend My Entire Childhood In The Altensam Dungeon Like An Inmate Doing Time For No Comprehensible Reason, For A Crime He Can't Remember Committing, A Judicial Error Probably.

All Of Living Is Nothing But A Fervid Attempt To Move Closer Together.

I Would Be The Unhappiest Person Imaginable, Confronted Daily With Disastrous Works Crying Out With Errors, Imprecision, Carelessness, Amateurishness. I Avoided This Punishment By Destroying Them, I Thought, And Suddenly I Took Great Pleasure In The Word Destroying.

We Must Allow Ourselves To Think, We Must Dare To Think, Even Though We Fail. It Is In The Nature Of Things That We Always Fail, Because We Suddenly Find It Impossible To Order Our Thoughts, Because The Process Of Thinking Requires Us To Consider Every Thought There Is, Every Possible Thought. Fundamentally We Have Always Failed, Like All The Others, Whoever They Were, Even The Greatest Minds. At Some Point, They Suddenly Failed And Their System Collapsed, As Is Proved By Their Writings, Which We Admire Because They Venture Farthest Into Failure. To Think Is To Fail, I Thought.