Give Me The Ready Hand Rather Than

The Cadence Of Suffering Has Begun. Every Evening At Dusk, My Heart Constricts Until Night Has Come.

One Must Look For One Thing Only, To Find Many.

Artists Are The Monks Of The Bourgeois State.

The Problem Is Not The Harshness Of Fate, For Anything We Want Strongly Enough We Get. The Trouble Is Rather That When We Have It We Grow Sick Of It, And Then We Should Never Blame Fate, Only Our Own Desire.

We Commit Two Wrongs When We Fail To Right A Wrong.