I am dead because I lack desire,I lack desire because I think I possess,I think I possess because I do not try to give,In trying to give, you see that you have nothing,Seeing that you have nothing, you try to give of yourself,Trying to give of yourself, you see that you are nothing,Seeing that you are nothing, you desire to become,In desiring to become, you begin to live.

Words are made for a certain exactness of thought, as tears are for a certain degree of pain. What is least distinct cannot be named; what is clearest is unutterable.

This place has only three exits, sir: Madness, and Death.