The lie is a condition of life.
The English are the people of consummate cant.
We pay dearly for immortality: we die for it more than once during our lifetimes.
Weariness that wants to reach the ultimate with one leap, with one fatal leap, a poor ignorant weariness that does not want to want any more: this created all gods and afterworlds.
Human, all too human.
I am no man, I am dynamite.