The only free mind is one that, pure of all intimacy with beings or objects, plies its own vacuity.
Far from diminishing the appetite for power, suffering exasperates it.
We die in proportion to the words we fling around us.
Consciousness is much more than the thorn, it is the dagger in the flesh.
What can be said, lacks reality. Only what fails to make its way into words exists and counts.
Tolerance cannot seduce the young.