La Literatura Es La Manera Más Agradable

The Gods Sell When They Give. Glory Is Paid For With Disgrace. Poor Are The Happy, For They Are Just What Passes.

Sailing Is Necessary, Living Is Not Necessary.

My Dreams Are A Stupid Refuge, Like An Umbrella Against A Thunderbolt.

What Hells And Purgatories And Heavens I Have Inside Of Me! But Who Sees Me Do Anything That Disagrees With Life--me, So Calm And Peaceful?

To Think Is To Destroy. The Very Process Of Thought Indicates It For The Same Thought, As Thinking Is Decomposing.