...he Was Just Scraps Of

Nothing But Disaster Follows From Applause.

The Anger And The Brutality Against Everything Can Readily From One Hour To The Next Be Transformed Into Its Opposite.

Everything Is Ridiculous If One Thinks Of Death

I Really Only Write About Inner Landscapes And Most People Don't See Them, Because They See Practically Nothing Within, Because They Think That Because It's Inside, It's Dark, And So They Don't See Anything. I Don't Think I've Ever Yet, In Any Of My Books, Described A Landscape. There's Really Nothing Of The Kind In Any Of Them. I Only Ever Write Concepts. And So I'm Always Referring To "mountains" Or "a City" Or "streets." But As To How They Look: I've Never Produced A Description Of A Landscape. That's Never Even Interested Me.

It Would Be Wrong To Refuse To Face The Fact That Everything Is Fundamentally Sick And Sad.