There is no love apart from the deeds of love; no potentiality of love other than that which is manifested in loving.

I wanted pure love: foolishness; to love one another is to hate a common enemy: I will thus espouse your hatred. I wanted Good: nonsense; on this earth and in these times, Good and Bad are inseparable: I accept to be evil in order to become good.

What then did you expect when you unbound the gag that muted those black mouths? That they would chant your praises? Did you think that when those heads that our fathers had forcibly bowed down to the ground were raised again, you would find adoration in their eyes?

I wanted my own words. But the ones I use have dragged through I don't know how many consciences.

Nothingness lies coiled in the heart of being - like a worm.

So that is what hell is. I would never have believed it. You remember: the fire and brimstone, the torture. Ah! the farce. There is no need for torture: Hell is other people.

Every human endeavor, however singular it seems, involves the whole human race.