Music Is The Refuge Of Souls Ulcerated

Melancholy: An Appetite No Misery Satisfies.

What Does The Future, That Half Of Time, Matter To The Man Who Is Infatuated With Eternity?

Every Word Affords Me Pain. Yet How Sweet It Would Be If I Could Hear What The Flowers Have To Say About Death!

In Most Cases We Attach Ourselves To In Order To Take Revenge On Life, To Punish It, To Signify We Can Do Without It, That We Have Found Something Better, And We Also Attach Ourselves To God In Horror Of Men.

An Aphorism? Fire Without Flames. Understandable That No One Tries To Warm Himself At It.