Reasons are for peasants.

Can't trust a fascist--truth is always your first sacrifice to the welfare of the state

I read once, somewhere, that the way you know you've grown up is when your future death becomes a stone in your shoe: when you feel it with every step.

It's not always easy to distinguish between existentialism and a bad mood.

All true stories end in death.

A tale is told of twin boys born to different mothers. One is dark by nature, the other light. One is rich, the other poor. One is harsh, the other gentle. One is forever youthful, the other old before his time. One is mortal. They share no bond of blood or sympathy, but they are twins nonetheless. They each live without ever knowing that they are brothers. They each die fighting the blind god.

Being old enough to know better but still too young to resist mostly sucks.