War is war. The only good human being is a dead one.
To accept civilization as it is practically means accepting decay.
He felt as though he were wandering in the forests of the sea bottom, lost in a monstrous world where he himself was the monster. He was alone. The past was dead, the future was unimaginable
Perhaps a lunatic was simply a minority of one.
A human being is primarily a bag for putting food into.
He had moved from thought to words, and now from words to actions.