Reality Is A Prison, Where One Vegetates

The Richness Of Life Lies In Memories We Have Forgotten.

All Our "most Sacred Affections " Are Merely Prosaic Habit.

People Who Don't Know Any Better Will Always Be In The Dark Because The Power Lies In The Hands Of Men Who Take Good Care That Ordinary Folk Don't Understand, In The Hands, That Is, Of The Government, Of The Clerical Party, Of The Capitalists.

Reality Is A Prison, Where One Vegetates And Always Will. All The Rest - Thought, Action - Is Just A Pastime, Mental Or Physical. What Counts Then, Is To Come To Grips With Reality. The Rest Can Go.

Great Lovers Will Always Be Unhappy, Because, For Them, Love Is Of Supreme Importance. Consequently They Demand Of Their Beloved The Same Intensity Of Thought As They Have For Her, Otherwise They Feel Betrayed.