The vegetation has crawled mile for mile towards the towns. It is waiting. When the town dies, the Vegetation will invade it, it will clamber over the stones, it will grip them, search them, burst them open with its long black pincers; it will bind the holes and hang its green paws everywhere.
In love, one and one are one.
Genius is not a gift, but the way a person invents in desperate circumstances.
One could only damage oneself through the harm one did to others. One could never get directly at oneself.
And you know what wickedness is, and shame, and fear. There were days when you peered into yourself, into the secret places of your heart, and what you saw there made you faint with horror.
Man is condemned to be free.