Injury, When It Is Slight, Upsets Me;

I Stop Wanting What I Am Looking For, Looking For It.

The Confession Of One Man Humbles All.

My Heaviness Comes From The Heights.

I Believe That The Soul Consists Of Its Sufferings. For The Soul That Cures Its Own Sufferings Dies.

Without This Ridiculous Vanity That Takes The Form Of Self-display, And Is Part Of Everything And Everyone, We Would See Nothing, And Nothing Would Exist.