Word - That Invisible Dagger.

We Interest Others By The Misfortune We Spread Around Us.

Hungarian Language — Savage It May Be But Of A Beauty That Has Nothing Human About It, With Sonorities Of Another Universe, Powerful And Corrosive, Appropriate To Prayer, To Groans And To Tears, Risen Out Of Hell To Perpetuate Its Accent And Its Aura…words Of Nectar And Cyanide.

Life Is Merely A Fracas On An Unmapped Terrain, And The Universe A Geometry Stricken With Epilepsy.

The History Of Ideas Is The History Of The Grudges Of Solitary Men.

We Must Suffer To The End, To The Moment When We Stop Believing In Suffering.