Dread Of Night. Dread Of Not-night.

I Can't Feel A Thing; All Mournful Petal Storms Are Dancing Inside The Very Private Spring Of My Head.

There Are Some Things One Can Only Achieve By A Deliberate Leap In The Opposite Direction.

Everything You Say Is Boring And Incomprehensible, But That Alone Doesn't Make It True.

I Do Not See The World At All; I Invent It.

One Tells As Few Lies As Possible Only By Telling As Few Lies As Possible, And Not By Having The Least Possible Opportunity To Do So.