I Am Not My Own Friend.time Cuts

A True Opium Of The People Is A Belief In Nothingness After Death.

When A Writer Is Born Into A Family, The Family Is Finished.

It Is Sweet To Think I Was A Companion In An Expedition That Never Ends

The Soul Exceeds Its Circumstances.

In A Room Where People Unanimously Maintain A Conspiracy Of Silence, One Word Of Truth Sounds Like A Pistol Shot.