It is too early to love. We will buy the right to do so by shedding blood.
Little flashes of sun on the surface of a cold, dark sea.
Things are entirely what they appear to be and behind them... there is nothing.
Death is a continuation of my life without me.
He is always becoming, and if it were not for the contingency of death, he would never end.
Consciousness is a being the nature of which is to be conscious of the nothingness of its being.