It is well for his peace that the saint goes to his martyrdom. He is spared the sight of the horror of his harvest.

They have been eating muffins. That looks like repentance

All thought is immoral. Its very essence is destruction. If you think of anything, you kill it. Nothing survives being thought of.

Christ did not die to save people, but to teach people how to save each other. This is, I have no doubt, a grave heresy, but it is also a fact.

At every single moment of one's life one is what one is going to be no less than what one has been.

What you really are is a Bunburyist. I was quite right in saying you were a Bunburyist. You are one of the most advanced Bunburyists I know.

The best work in literature is always done by those who do not depend on it for their daily bread and the highest form of literature, Poetry, brings no wealth to the singer.