At Times One Remains Faithful To A

Triumph Depends On A Roll Of Fate's Dice; The Ultimate Prize Is A Place In Heaven.

Wherever Primitive Man Put Up A Word, He Believed He Had Made A Discovery. How Utterly Mistaken He Really Was! He Had Touched A Problem, And While Supposing He Had Solved It, He Had Created And Obstacle To Its Solution. Now, With Every New Knowledge We Stumble Over Flint-like And Petrified Words And, In So Doing, Break A Leg Sooner Than A Word.

Read From A Distant Star, The Majuscule Script Of Our Earthly Existence Would Perhaps Lead To The Conclusion That The Earth Was The Distinctively Ascetic Planet, A Nook Of Disgruntled, Arrogant Creatures Filled With A Profound Disgust With Themselves, At The Earth, At All Life, Who Inflict As Much Pain On Themselves As They Possibly Can Out Of Pleasure In Inflicting Pain Which Is Probably Their Only Pleasure.

"this - Is Now My Way - Where Is Yours"? Thus Did I Answer Those Who Asked Me "the Way". For The Way - It Does Not Exist!

Whoever Despises Himself Nonetheless Respects Himself As One Who Despises.