He Who Does Not Know

The Highest Happiness, The Purest Joys Of Life, Wear Out At Last.

Impotent Hatred Is The Most Horrible Of All Emotions; One Should Hate Nobody Whom One Cannot Destroy.

If I Work Incessantly To The Last, Nature Owes Me Another Form Of Existence When The Present One Collapses.

These Auspicious Aspects, Which The Astrologers Subsequently Interpreted For Me, May Have Been The Causes Of My Preservation.

Ah! My Poor Brain Is Racked And Crazed, My Spirit And Senses Amazed!