I just know that I don't want cheating. I refuse. I deepened myself but I don't believe in myself because my thought is invented.

For at the hour of death you became a celebrated film star, it is a moment of glory for everyone, when the choral music scales the top notes.

Even great men are only truly recognized and honored once they are dead. Why? Because those who praise them need to feel themselves somehow superior to the person praised, they need to feel they are making some concession.

Today at school I wrote an essay about Flag Day which was so beautiful, but ever so beautiful - for I even used words without really knowing what they meant.

In the world there exists no aesthetic plane, not even the aesthetic plane of goodness.

But don't forget, in the meantime, that this is the season for strawberries. Yes.

Do not mourn the dead. They know what they are doing.