[on Paris:] A City Never Entirely Known,

Idealism Is The Death Of The Body And The Imagination. All But Freedom, Utter Freedom, Is Death

Each Contact With A Human Being Is So Rare, So Precious, One Should Preserve It.

She Lacks Confidence, She Craves Admiration Insatiably. She Lives On The Reflections Of Herself In The Eyes Of Others. She Does Not Dare To Be Herself.

We Do Not See The World As It Is. We See The Word As We Are.

To Commit Suicide Is Easy. To Live Without A God Is More Difficult. The Drunkenness Of Triumph Is Greater Than The Drunkenness Of Sacrifice.