I Too Entered The Lager As A

It Is This Refrain That We Hear Repeated By Everyone: You Are Not At Home, This Is Not A Sanatorium, The Only Exit Is By Way Of The Chimney. (what Did It Mean? Soon We Were All To Learn What It Meant.)

Sooner Or Later In Life Everyone Discovers That Perfect Happiness Is Unrealizable, But There Are Few Who Pause To Consider The Antithesis: That Perfect Unhappiness Is Equally Unattainable. The Obstacles Preventing The Realization Of Both These Extreme States Are Of The Same Nature: They Derive From Our Human Condition Which Is Opposed To Everything Infinite.

Human Memory Is A Marvelous But Fallacious Instrument. The Memories Which Lie Within Us Are Not Carved In Stone; Not Only Do They Tend To Become Erased As The Years Go By, But Often They Change, Or Even Increase By Incorporating Extraneous Features.

A Country Is Considered The More Civilised The More The Wisdom And Efficiency Of Its Laws Hinder A Weak Man From Becoming Too Weak And A Powerful One Too Powerful.

I Beg The Reader Not To Go In Search Of Messages. It Is A Term That I Detest Because It Distresses Me Greatly, For It Forces On Me Clothes That Are Not Mine, Which In Fact Belong To A Human Type That I Distrust; The Prophet, The Soothsayer, The Seer. I Am None Of These; I'm A Normal Man With A Good Memory Who Fell Into A Maelstrom And Got Out Of It More By Luck Than By Virtue, And Who From That Time On Has Preserved A Certain Curiosity About Maelstroms Large And Small, Metaphorical And Actual.