I hate no one, sir. It seems a waste of emotional energy.

I hate no one, sir. It seems a waste of emotional energy.

It was like that all the time, in those years: an endless trip, a gaudy voyage. But powers decay. Time leaches the colors from the best of visions. The world becomes grayer. Entropy beats us down. Everything fades. Everything goes. Everything dies.

We are born by accident into a purely random universe.

I find the world and all it contains extremely fascinating. Is this sinful?

Unacceptable, maybe. But not unthinkable. Nothing's unthinkable once somebody's thought it.

Having lost our present and our future, we had of necessity to bend all our endeavors to the past, which no one could take from us if only we were vigilant enough.