A Book Must Be The Ax For

Kill Me, Or You Are A Murderer.

A Picture Of My Existence... Would Show A Useless Wooden Stake Covered In Snow... Stuck Loosely At A Slant In The Ground In A Ploughed Field On The Edge Of A Vast Open Plain On A Dark Winter Night.

He Who Seeks Does Not Find, But He Who Does Not Seek Will Be Found.

In The Struggle Between Yourself And The World Second The World.

Anyone Who Renounces The World Must Love All Men, For He Renounces Their World Too. He Thus Begins To Have Some Inkling Of The True Nature Of Man, Which Cannot But Be Loved, Always Assuming That One Is Its Peer.