The Essence Of Life Is

War! When I But Think Of This Word, I Feel Bewildered, As Though They Were Speaking To Me Of Sorcery, Of The Inquisition, Of A Distant, Finished, Abominable, Monstrous, Unnatural Thing. When They Speak To Us Of Cannibals, We Smile Proudly, As We Proclaim Our Superiority To These Savages. Who Are The Real Savages? Those Who Struggle In Order To Eat Those Whom They Vanquish, Or Those Who Struggle Merely To Kill?

The Past Attracts Me, The Present Frightens Me, Because The Future Is Death.

Great Minds That Are Healthy Are Never Considered Geniuses, While This Sublime Qualification Is Lavished On Brains That Are Often Inferior But Are Slightly Touched By Madness.

Life Is A Slope. As Long As You're Going Up You're Always Looking Towards The Top And You Feel Happy, But When You Reach It, Suddenly You Can See The Road Going Downhill And Death At The End Of It All. It's Slow Going Up And Quick Going Down.

Night Was A Very Different Matter. It Was Dense, Thicker Than The Very Walls, And It Was Empty, So Black, So Immense That Within It You Could Brush Against Appalling Things And Feel Roaming And Prowling Around A Strange, Mysterious Horror.