Where there is no hope, it is incumbent on us to invent it.

When the throne of God is overturned, the rebel realizes that it is now his own responsibility to create the justice, order, and unity that he sought in vain within his own condition, and in this way to justify the fall of God. Then begins the desperate effort to create, at the price of crime and murder if necessary, the dominion of man.

That's love, giving everything, sacrificing all without hope of return.

Since the order of the world is shaped by death, mightn't it be better for God if we refuse to believe in Him, and struggle with all our might against death without raising our eyes towards the heaven where He sits in silence?

Healthy people have a natural skill of avoiding feverish eyes.

Outside of that single fatality of death, everything, joy or happiness, is liberty.

From the evening breeze to this hand on my shoulder, everything has its truth.