I Am More Sensitive Than Other People.

All Lovers In The World Are Alike: They Fall In Love By Chance; They See Each Other, And Are Attached To Each Other By The Features Of Their Faces; They Illuminate Each Other By The Fierce Preference Which Is Akin To Madness; They Assert The Reality Of Illusions; And For A Moment They Change Falsehood Into Truth.

I See Too Deep And Too Much.

Let Everything Be Remade On Simple Lines. There Is Only One People, There Is Only One People!

I Am More Sensitive Than Other People. Things That Other People Would Not Notice Awaken A Distinct Echo In Me, And In Such Moments Of Lucidity, When I Look At Myself, I See That I Am Alone, All Alone, All Alone.

Yes, There Is A Divinity, One From Which We Must Never Turn Aside For The Guidance Of Our Huge Inward Life And Of The Share We Have As Well In The Life Of All Men. It Is Called The Truth.