It Is Of Men, And Of Them

Philosophizing Is Simply One Way Of Being Afraid, A Cowardly Pretense That Doesn't Get You Anywhere.

Maybe I'd Never See Him Again... Maybe He'd Gone For Good... Swallowed Up, Body And Soul, In The Kind Of Stories You Hear About... Ah, It's An Awful Thing... And Being Young Doesn't Help Any... When You Notice For The First Time... The Way You Lose People As You Go Along ... The Buddies You'll Never See Again... Never Again... When You Notice That They've Disappeared Like Dreams... That It's All Over... Finished... That You Too Will Get Lost Someday... A Long Way Off But Inevitably... In The Awful Torrent Of Things And People... Of The Days And Shapes... That Pass... That Never Stop.

I Piss On You All From A Considerable Height.

When You're Not Used To Comfort And Good Things To Eat, You're Intoxicated By Them In No Time. Truth's Only Too Pleased To Leave You. Very Little Is Ever Needed For Truth To Let Go Of You. And After All, You're Not Really Very Keen To Keep Hold Of It.

Experience Is A Dim Lamp, Which Only Lights The One Who Bears It.