Utopias are boring. Distopias on the other hand, are interesting.

One defining symptom of decadence is a fondness for vast and nonsensical extravagance.

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.

When you know that something is dying inside you, you learn not to put much trust in the random vitalities of the fleeting moment.

My temperament is not inclined toward more self-promotion than is absolutely necessary for my professional well-being.

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.

Living, we fret. Dying, we live. I’ll keep that in mind. I’ll be of good cheer.