The weapon of the Republic is terror, and virtue is its strength.
The world is chaos. Nothingness is the yet-to-be-born god of the world.
How many women does one need to sing the scale of love all the way up and down?
Death is the most blessed dream.
Only one thing abides: an infinite beauty that passes from form to form, eternally changed and revealed afresh.
Murder begins where self-defense ends.