And it seemed increasingly obvious that the world would have to topple if he was to attain the glory that was rightfully his. They were consubstantia… - Yukio Mishima

Perfect purity is possible if you turn your life into a line of poetry written with a splash of death.

Young people get the foolish idea that what is new for them must be new for everybody else too. No matter how unconventional they get, they're just repeating what others before them have done.

How dearly, indeed, I loved my pit, my dusky room, the area of my desk with its piles of books! How I enjoyed introspection, shrouded myself in cogitation; with what rapture did I listen for the rustling of frail insects in the thickets of my nerves!