We're not in a fairytale story. This is not a movie. Scriptwriters don't write our fates. We do.

Art is inextricably tied to man's survival - not to his physical survival, but to that on which his physical survival depends: to the preservation and survival of his consciousness.

Max?' he asked.'Yeah?''...What are you doing?''Shooting people.

The survivor spoke to us though, or tried to. Mumbling through that matted brown beard of his, pale as death itself. I can__ say now if it was weakness from his wounds or what it was _ but we struggled to understand him. In fact we got nothing intelligible from him at all then. He seemed afraid, like any dying man probably would be, but he did seem more terrified than any dying man I__e seen before _ and I__e seen a few in my time. Let me tell you, Corsair or not, he grabbed whatever hand would hold his, and clenched it so tight his knuckles turned white! He kept fading out as we carried him on the stretcher board the medics brought with them. Looking back, I think he tried to warn us, poor bastard. He tried to tell us to leave him behind and go, but we wouldn__ listen. We thought we were better than the Corsairs, remember? We thought we would be all moral and upright and try to help him. __on__ say I didn__ warn you._ were the last words he said before losing consciousness. At least, those that we could make out. At the end of it all, he was right _ as it turned out, we couldn__ even help ourselves.

It__ that short-lived happiness, which empowers us to bear; long-lasting pain in living.

Yes: I exist inside my body.I__ not carrying the sun and the moon in my pocket.I don__ want to conquer worlds because I slept badly,And I don__ want to eat the world for breakfast because I have a stomach.Indifferent?No: a son of the earth, who, if he jumps, it__ wrong,A moment in the air that__ not for us,And only happy when his feet hit the ground again,Pow! In reality where nothing__ missing!(6/20/1919)