I believe in a cruel God who created me like himself in anger of whom that I name. From the cowardice of a seed or of a vile atom I was born. I am a son evil because I am a man; and I feel the primitive mud in me. Yes! This is my faith! I believe with a firm heart, so does the widow in the temple, the evil I think and proceeds from me, fulfills my destiny. I think the honest man is a mockery, in face and heart, that everything is in him is a lie: tears, kisses, looks, sacrifices and honor. And I think the man plays a game of unjust fate the seed of the cradle the worm of the grave. After all this foolishness comes death. And then what? And then? Death is Nothingness. Heaven is an old wives' tale!