I Am A Man By Virtue Of

But How Is One To Make A Scientist Understand That There Is Something Unalterably Deranged About Differential Calculus, Quantum Theory, Or The Obscene And So Inanely Liturgical Ordeals Of The Precession Of The Equinoxes.

There Are Souls That Are Incurable And Lost To The Rest Of Society. Deprive Them Of One Means Of Folly, They Will Invent Ten Thousand Others. They Will Create Subtler, Wilder Methods, Methods That Are Absolutely Desperate. Nature Herself Is Fundamentally Antisocial, It Is Only By A Usurpation Of Powers That The Organized Body Of Society Opposes The Natural Inclination Of Humanity.

I Do Not Like Detached Creation. Neither Can I Conceive Of The Mind As Detached From Itself. Each Of My Works, Each Diagram Of Myself, Each Glacial Flowering Of My Inmost Soul Dribbles Over Me.

All True Language Is Incomprehensible, Like The Chatter Of A Beggar's Teeth.

If I Commit Suicide, It Will Not Be To Destroy Myself, But To Put Myself Back Together Again. Suicide Will Be For Me Only One Means Of Violently Reconquering Myself, Of Brutally Invading My Being, Of Anticipating The Unpredictable Approaches Of God. By Suicide, I Reintroduce My Design In Nature, I Shall For The First Time Give Things The Shape Of My Will.