There Is No Man Who Desires As

The Concept Of Number Is The Obvious Distinction Between The Beast And Man. Thanks To Number, The Cry Becomes A Song, Noise Acquires Rhythm, The Spring Is Transformed Into A Dance, Force Becomes Dynamic, And Outlines Figures.

The Whole Earth, Perpetually Steeped In Blood, Is Nothing But An Immense Altar On Which Every Living Thing Must Be Sacrificed Without End, Without Restraint, Without Respite Until The Consummation Of The World, The Extinction Of Evil, The Death Of Death.

We Are Tainted By Modern Philosophy Which Has Taught Us That All Is Good, Whereas Evil Has Polluted Everything And In A Very Real Sense All Is Evil, Since Nothing Is In Its Proper Place.

I Do Not Know What The Heart Of A Rascal May Be, But I Know What Is In The Heart Of An Honest Man; It Is Horrible.

False Opinions Are Like False Money, Struck First Of All By Guilty Men And Thereafter Circulated By Honest People Who Perpetuate The Crime Without Knowing What They Are Doing.