The family becomes rigid and hard when it excludes others from its meals; those that must be fed provide a natural pretext for the exclusion of other… - Elias Canetti

Books have no life; they lack feeling maybe, and perhaps cannot feel pain, as animals and even plants feel -pain. But what proof have we that inorganic objects can feel no pain? Who knows if a book may not yearn for other books, its companions of many years, in some way strange to us and therefore never yet perceived? Every thinking being knows those moments in which the traditional frontier set by science between the organic and the inorganic, seems artificial and outdated, like every frontier drawn by men. Is not a secret antagonism to this division revealed in the very phrase 'dead matter' ? For the dead must once have been the living. Let us admit then of a substance that it is dead, have we not in so doing endowed it with an erstwhile life.

A murder shared with many others, which is not only safe and permitted, but indeed recommended, is irresistible to the great majority of men.

Say the most personal thing, say it, nothing else matters, don’t be ashamed, the generalities can be found in the newspaper.