Always Be Drunk ... Get Drunk Militantly.

How Bittersweet It Is, On Winter's Night, To Listen, By The Sputtering, Smoking Fire, As Distant Memories, Through The Fog-dimmed Light, Rise, To The Muffled Chime Of Churchbell Choir.

Beauty Is The Sole Ambition, The Exclusive Goal Of Taste.

Dance Can Reveal Everything Mysterious That Is Hidden In Music

The More One Works, The Better One Works, And The More One Wants To Work. The More One Produces, The More Fertile One Grows.

What Is Love? The Need Of Coming Out Of One's Self.