When I was lying in my warm, damp bed these questions did not interest me one jot and at such a time it did not matter to me whether God really existed or whether He was nothing but a personification of the mighty ones of this world, invented for the greater glory of spiritual values and the easier spoliation of the lower orders, the pattern of earthly things being transferred from the sky. All I wanted to know was whether or not I was going to live through to the morning. In face of death, I felt that religion, faith, belief were feeble, childish things of which the best that could be said was that they provided a kind of recreatian for healthy, successful people...
(The Blind Owl. Sadegh Hedayat.)
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... (From : TheAnarchistLibrary.org.)
April 28, 2020 ; 5:34:30 PM (America/Los_Angeles) :