Book: The Diary Of Satan

My loneliness is very great. I don't need friends, but I have to talk about myself, and I don't talk to anyone. Some thoughts are not enough and not quite clear, distinct and accurate, until I Express them with the word.

Do you know what a puppet theater? When one doll is broken, it is replaced by another, but the theater continues, the music does not stop, the audience applauds, and it's very interesting. Is the audience cares about where you throw the broken shards, and follows them to the trash can? He looks at the game and having fun. And I had so much fun - and the drums sounded so invitingly - and clowns are so funny tumbled and did stupid things - and I love the immortal game that I wanted to become an actor... Oh, I did not know then that this is not a game and that trash can is so terrible, when you become a doll, and that from the broken shards of the blood,- you lied to me, my present friend!

And what they are brave with their dim mirrors, I don't see anything and say it's just dark here, it is necessary to turn on the light! Then extinguish themselves and fall asleep. I with some surprise, really cold, consider these brave men and... admire. Or for fear of too great a mind as Me? It's not you're such a coward, Underhood, you have always the reputation of a man tempered and seasoned!

- You are the alchemist of the gospel, Vanderwood: take the lead and want to turn into gold!
- Yes, I want to make gold and to find the philosopher's stone. But is he not found? It is found, only you don't know how to use it: it's love. Oh, Magnus, I don't know what I'd do, but My plans are wide and... majestic, I would say, if this is not your misanthropic smile. Believe in the person of Magnus, and help Me! You know what you want.

The wisdom of the words needed only the poor in spirit, the rich are the silent, noticed it poetic, wise and eternal talker at all intersections! Enough with you that I've stooped to the words.

- I'm not asking you about the frankness, Magnus...
Excuse me, but you never get m-R Vandergoot.

Well, let neighbors love each other, teach them that, teach, speak, but why should you? When too much, did not notice the shortcomings of the beloved object, and even worse: they are willing to erect in dignity. How are you going to fix people, make them happy, not knowing their faults, vices by virtues? When love and regret and pity kills power. See, I am quite Frank with you, Mr. Vandergeld, and will say it again: love is weakness. Love gonna pull you money out of your pocket and spend it... at blush! Give those on the bottom, love each other, ask them this, but you lifted up so high, gifted with such power!..

- Rationalism! Yes, you have undoubted talent as a humorist, Mr. Vanderwood! Tell me, famous mark TWAIN isn't it your countryman?.. Yes, Yes! Rationalism! And you remember, what word is this happening and what do you mean ratio? An nescis, mi fili, quantilla sapientia regitur orbis? Ax, expensive Vandergoot, to speak in this land of rationality is even more inappropriate than to mention rope in the house of the hanged man!

- The entire civilized world considers the pursuit of freedom by virtue indignantly replied Ya.
- I did not expect other answer from a citizen of the United States. And you personally don't you think that those who bring us unlimited freedom, he will bring death! After all, only death unbinds all earthly ties, and does not seem to be whether you these words - freedom and death - simple synonyms?

And what a great liar who can only deceive others? Lie to yourself to believe is art!

After parting with the man for an hour, unable then to find him in eternity.

I still love you, man, but some nights I just was ready to cry, thinking of your suffering, tormented about your body, about your soul, given over to eternal crucifixion.

One minute in My incarnation I can't remember without horror: when I first heard My heart beating. This distinct, loud, with a sound that many talking about death but about life, I was struck by untried by fear and excitement. Everywhere they put their counters, but they can carry in their Breasts the counter, with the rapidity of a magician provivde seconds of life?
At first I wanted to scream and immediately rush down, still not used to life, but I looked at Toppi: this newborn fool quietly sleeve of his coat is clean your cylinder. I laughed and shouted:
Of toppy! Brush!
And we were both cleaned, and the counter in My chest counted how many seconds it lasted, and seems to be added. Then later on listening to his annoying ticking, I began to think: "No time!" That doesn't make it? I didn't know this, but two days frantically rushing to drink, eat, even sleep: the counter does not sleep, while I lie motionless carcass and sleep!

And the truth - like her say, even if My Name is inexpressible in your language? Satan called Me, and I accept this nickname would have accepted any other: let me - Satan. But My real name sounds quite different, quite different! It sounds unusual, and I can't squeeze it into your narrow ear without tore it along with your brains: I let Satan only.