After All, Every Murderer When He Kills

A Man Wants To Earn Money In Order To Be Happy, And His Whole Effort And The Best Of A Life Are Devoted To The Earning Of That Money. Happiness Is Forgotten; The Means Are Taken For The End.

A True Masterpiece Does Not Tell Everything.

There Is In Me An Anarchy And Frightful Disorder. Creating Makes Me Die A Thousand Deaths, Because It Means Making Order, And My Entire Being Rebels Against Order. But Without It I Would Die, Scattered To The Winds.

We Have To Live And Let Live In Order To Create What We Are.

I Hope The Dogs Don't Bark Tonight. I Always Think It's Mine