Our first intuitions are the true ones.
~ Emile M. Cioran
What would be left of our tragedies if an insect were to present us his?
What surrounds us we endure better for giving it a name - and moving on.
Life inspires more dread than death - it is life which is the great unknown.
Intelligence flourishes only in the ages when belief withers.
Woes and wonders of Power, that tonic hell, synthesis of poison and panacea.
We are afraid of the enormity of the possible.
Jealousy - that jumble of secret worship and ostensible aversion.
Life is possible only by the deficiencies of our imagination and memory.
