Our Dreams Are A Second Life. I

The Intoxication Of The Faro Drinker Only Shows Itself At First By An Increase In Noise Which Is Only Deafening, And Finally By A Silent Deterioration Of The Mind.

L'imagination M'apportait Des Délices Infinies. En Recouvrant Ce Que Les Hommes Appellent La Raison, Faudra-t-il Regretter De Les Avoir Perdues...? My Imagination Gave Me Infinite Delight. In Recovering What Men Call Reason, Do I Have To Regret The Loss Of These Joys?

The Enthusiasm Of Old Men Is Singularly Like That Of Infancy.

The Tree Of Knowledge Is Not The Tree Of Life! And Yet Can We Cast Out Of Our Spirits All The Good Or Evil Poured Into Them By So Many Learned Generations? Ignorance Cannot Be Learned.

I Have Never Felt Any Rest In Sleep. For A Few Seconds I Am Numbed, Then A New Life Begins, Freed From The Conditions Of Time And Space, And Doubtless Similar To That State Which Awaits Us After Death. Who Knows If There Is Not Some Link Between Those Two Existences And If It Is Not Possible For The Soul To Unite Them Now?