No One Is A Light Unto Himself,

The Little Things Are What Is Eternal, And The Rest, All The Rest, Is Brevity, Extreme Brevity.

Truth Has Very Few Friends And Those Few Are Suicides.

Yes, One Must Suffer, Even In Vain, So As Not To Have Lived In Vain.

My Bits Of Time Play With Eternity.

When The Superficial Wearies Me, It Wearies Me So Much That I Need An Abyss In Order To Rest.