In The End One Only Experiences Oneself.

Love And Hatred Are Not Blind, But Are Blinded By The Fire They Bear Within Themselves.

Life Is The Will To Power; Our Natural Desire To Dominate And Reshape The World To Fit Our Own Preferences And Assert Our Personal Strength To The Fullest Degree.

Natural Death Is Independent Of All Reason And Is Really An Irrational Death, In Which The Pitiable Substance Of The Shell Determines How Long The Kernel Is To Exist Or Not; In Which, Accordingly, The Stunted, Diseased And Dull Witted Jailer Is Lord, And Indicates The Moment At Which His Distinguished Prisoner Shall Die.

The Bite Of Conscience Is Indecent.

I Still Live, I Still Think: I Still Have To Live, For I Still Have To Think.