Self-creation is the highest art.

We walk the brink of racial suicide because we were smart enough to make atomic bombs and stupid enough to use them.

Life moved ever outward into infinite possibilities and yet all things were perfect and finished in every single moment, their end attained.

Before, you are wise; after, you are wise. In between you are otherwise.

Self-creation is the highest art.

A man lusts to become a god... and there is murder. Murder upon murder upon murder. Why is the world of men nothing but murder?

For war is never some cosmic accident descending upon a people with all the chance and inevitability of asteroids falling like fire out of the heavens, but only the will and work of man.