Un hombre que está solo es hermoso. - Tan hermoso que enseguida da ganas de hacerle compañía. Y desde entonces deja de estar solo: así es el mundo. - Jean-Paul Sartre

Translation: When the rich make war, it's the poor that die.

You are — your life, and nothing else.

I lean all my weight on the porcelain ledge, I draw my face closer until it touches the mirror. The eyes, nose, and mouth disappear. Nothing is left. Brown wrinkles show on each side of the feverish swelled lips, crevices, mole holes. A silky, white down covers the great slopes of the cheeks, two hairs protrude from the nostrils: it is a geological embossed map. And, in spite of everything, this lunar world is familiar to me. I cannot say I recognize the details. But the whole thing gives me an impression of something seen before which stupefies me: I slip quietly off to sleep.