We Are Afraid Of The Enormity Of

If We Could See Ourselves As Others See Us, We Would Vanish On The Spot.

Under Each Formula Lies A Corpse.

I Don’t Understand Why We Must Do Things In This World, Why We Must Have Friends And Aspirations, Hopes And Dreams. Wouldn’t It Be Better To Retreat To A Faraway Corner Of The World, Where All Its Noise And Complications Would Be Heard No More? Then We Could Renounce Culture And Ambitions; We Would Lose Everything And Gain Nothing; For What Is There To Be Gained From This World?

No Position Is So False As Having Understood And Still Remaining Alive.

To Devastate By Language, To Blow Up The Word And With It The World.