We'll Grow Old Waiting.

The Only Thing He Could Do To Stay Alive Was Not To Allow Himself The Anguish Of That Memory. He Erased It From His Mind, Although From Time To Time In The Years That Were Left To Him He Would Feel It Revive, With No Warning And For No Reason, Like The Sudden Pang Of An Old Scar.

Both Looked Back Then On The Wild Revelry...and They Lamented That It Had Cost Them So Much Of Their Lives To Find The Paradise Of Shared Solitude.

I Became Aware That The Invincible Power That Has Moved The World Is Unrequited, Not Happy, Love.

Each Man Is Master Of His Own Death, And All That We Can Do When The Time Comes Is To Help Him Die Without Fear Of Pain.

An Artisan Without Memories, Whose Only Dream Was To Die Of Fatigue In The Oblivion And Misery Of His Little Gold Fishes.