For Clearly It Is Impossible To Touch

It Is A Rather Risky Matter To Discuss A Happiness That Has No Need Of Words.

What I Wanted Was To Die Among Strangers, Untroubled, Beneath A Cloudless Sky. And Yet My Desire Differed From The Sentiments Of That Ancient Greek Who Wanted To Die Under The Brilliant Sun. What I Wanted Was Some Natural, Spontaneous Suicide. I Wanted A Death Like That Of A Fox, Not Yet Well Versed In Cunning, That Walks Carelessly Along A Mountain Path And Is Shot By A Hunter Because Of Its Own Stupidity.

I Had No Taste For Defeat - Much Less Victory - Without A Fight.

His Emotion Evident In The Glitter Of His Eyes.

The Mind, By Its Very Nature, Persistently Tries To Live Forever, Resisting Age And Attempting To Give Itself A Form... . When A Person Passes His Prime And His Life Begins To Lose True Vigor And Charm, His Mind Starts Functioning As If It Were Another Form Of Life; It Imitates What Life Does, Eventually Doing What Life Cannot Do.