The Only Truth Is That I Live.

Who Has Not Asked Himself At Some Time Or Other: Am I A Monster Or Is This What It Means To Be A Person?

So Long As I Have Questions To Which There Are No Answers, I Shall Go On Writing.

What I Want Is To Live Of That Initial And Primordial Something That Was What Made Some Things Reach The Point Of Aspiring To Be Human.

The World's Continual Breathing Is What We Hear And Call Silence.

For Only When I Err Do I Get Away From What I Know And What I Understand. If "truth" Were What I Can Understand, It Would End Up Being But A Small Truth, My-sized. Truth Must Reside Precisely In What I Shall Never Understand.