So the little thing grew bigger. He was healthy and normal, ate regularly, slept long hours, and yet the growing little thing was becoming an obsession. WORK PERFORMED. The phrase haunted his brain.

I was waiting for the Right Time while He was waiting for my Act.

To the truly benevolent mind, indeed, nothing is more satisfactory than to hear of a miser denying himself the necessaries of life a little too far and ridding us of his presence altogether.

Pessimism only describes an attitude, and not facts, and hence is entirely subjective.

Written By Francis Parker Yockey

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