When Somebody Dies We Usually Need Reasons

Let Us Not Underestimate The Privileges Of The Mediocre. As One Climbs Higher, Life Becomes Ever Harder, The Coldness Increases, Responsibility Increases.

Cows Sometimes Wear An Expression Resembling Wonderment Arrested On Its Way To Becoming A Question. In The Eye Of Superior Intelligence, On The Other Hand, Lies The Nil Admirari Spread Out Like The Monotony Of A Cloudless Sky.

He Who Knows Not How To Plant His Will In Things At Least Endows Them With Some Meaning: That Is To Say, He Believes That A Will Is Already Present In Them (a Principle Of Faith.)

It Is Always Consoling To Think Of Suicide: In That Way One Gets Through Many A Bad Night.

Success Has Always Been The Greatest Liar - And The "work" Itself Is A Success; The Great Statesman, The Conqueror, The Discoverer Is Disguised By His Creations, Often Beyond Recognition; The "work," Whether Of The Artist Or The Philosopher, Invents The Man Who Has Created It, Who Is Supposed To Have Create It; "great Men," As They Are Venerated, Are Subsequent Pieces Of Wretched Minor Fiction