Oh Salty Sea, How Much Of Your

Could It Think, The Heart Would Stop Beating.

To Live Is To Be Someone Else. Feeling Is Impossible If We Feel Today As We Felt Yesterday: To Feel Today The Same Thing We Felt Yesterday Is Not To Feel At All--it's Merely To Remember Today What We Felt Yesterday, Since Today We Are The Living Cadaver Of Yesterday's Lost Life.

Without Madness What Is Man But A Wholesome Beast, Postponed Corpse That Begets?

Oh Salty Sea, How Much Of Your Salt Is Tears From Portugal?

Ah, It's My Longing For Whom I Might Have Been That Distracts And Torments Me!