Evil Comes Up Softly Like A Flower.

What Is Irritating About Love Is That It Is A Crime That Requires An Accomplice.

It Is From The Womb Of Art That Criticism Was Born.

I Felt Passing Over Me The Wind Of The Wing Of Madness.

To Dream Magnificently Is Not A Gift Given To All Men, And Even For Those Who Possess It, It Runs A Strong Risk Of Being Progressively Diminished By The Ever-growing Dissipation Of Modern Life And By The Restlessness Engendered By Material Progress. The Ability To Dream Is A Divine And Mysterious Ability; Because It Is Through Dreams That Man Communicates With The Shadowy World Which Surrounds Him. But This Power Needs Solitude To Develop Freely; The More One Concentrates, The More One Is Likely To Dream Fully, Deeply.

You Walk On Corpses, Beauty, Undismayed.