But what is Hope? Nothing but the paint on the face of Existence; the least touch of truth rubs it off, and then we see what a hollow-cheeked harlot we have got hold of.
Be hypocritical, be cautious, be not what you seem but always what you see.
Are not the mountains, waves, and skies as much a part of me, as I of them?
And I would hear yet once before I perish The voice which was my music... Speak to me!
'Tis very certain the desire of life prolongs it.
Books, Manuals, Directives, Regulations. The geometries that circumscribe your working life draw norrower and norrower until nothing fits inside them anymore.