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Scars may heal, but the wound itself does not.

Where there is conformity, there is nothing but conformity, because harmony means the death of content in the name of cohesion.

When I cannot commit suicide, I feel the urge to do so, because I am a prisoner; but when I become capable of committing suicide, the desire to do so fades, because I am then free to do it.

To be different is to suffer in things that others live through automatically, which signifies not mere misery but also aliveness.