I Could Not Take Lightly The Idea

To Achieve Harmony In Bad Taste Is The Height Of Elegance.

It's A True Image, Born Of A False Spectacle.

In Order To Weep, I Had Descended To The Realm Of The Dead Themselves, To Their Secret Chambers, Led By The Invisible But Soft Hands Of Birds Down Stairways Which Were Folded Up Again As I Advanced. I Displayed My Grief In The Friendly Fields Of Death, Far From Men: Within Myself.

We Know That Their Adventures Are Childish. They Themselves Are Fools. They Are Ready To Kill Or Be Killed Over A Card-game In Which An Opponent - Or They Themselves - Was Cheating. Yet, Thanks To Such Fellows, Tragedies Are Possible.

Erotic Play Discloses A Nameless World Which Is Revealed By The Nocturnal Language Of Lovers. Such Language Is Not Written Down. It Is Whispered Into The Ear At Night In A Hoarse Voice. At Dawn It Is Forgotten.