The Poet Is A Liar Who Always

Lack Of Manners Is The Sign Of A Hero.

Continue Reading Proust. His Magnificent Intelligence Is Particularly Fond Of Describing Stupidity. Which Is Ultimately Exhausting.

Silence Moves Faster When It's Going Backward.

A Little Too Much Is Just Enough For Me.

I Only Fear The Death Of Others. For Me, True Death Is That Of The People I Love