One Hardly Saves A World Without Ruling

Our Place Is Somewhere Between Being And Nonbeing - Between Two Fictions.

The Sole Means Of Protecting Your Solitude Is To Offend Everyone, Beginning With Those You Love.

The Literary Man? An Indiscreet Man, Who Devaluates His Miseries, Divulges Them, Tells Them Like So Many Beads: Immodesty-the Sideshow Of Second Thoughts-is His Rule; He Offers Himself.

The Deepest And Most Organic Death Is Death In Solitude, When Even Light Becomes A Principle Of Death. In Such Moments You Will Be Severed From Life, From Love, Smiles, Friends And Even From Death. And You Will Ask Yourself If There Is Anything Besides The Nothingness Of The World And Your Own Nothingness.

Lucidity's Task: To Attain A Correct Despair, An Olympian Ferocity.