When A Writer Is Born Into A

The Living Owe It To Those Who No Longer Can Speak To Tell Their Story For Them.

Our Memory Is Childish And It Saves Only What We Need.

If I Am All Mankind, Are They Themselves Without Me?

You Who Think Of Us: They Lived Only In Delusion... Know That We The People Of The Book, Will Never Die!

Consolation Calm Down. Both Your Sins And Your Good Deeds Will Be Lost In Oblivion.