FROM ISSUE #15
E. M. CIORAN
“I lost my sleep and this is the greatest tragedy tha tcan befall someone. It is much worse than sitting in prison. I went out of the house at about midnight or later and roamed through the alleys. And there were only a few lunatics and me, all alone in the entire city, in which absolute silence reigned. Everything that I thought in consequence and later composed was ‘born’ during those nights. Because I could not sleep at night and roamed about, I was naturally useless during the day and could therefore practice no profession.”