I Crave Time In All Its Duration,

I Realize That, While Often Happy And Often Cheerful, I Am Always Sad.

Faithful To The Word Given And The Idea Had.

The Chill Of What I Won't Feel Gnaws At My Present Heart.

The Perfect Man Of Pagans Was The Perfection Of The Man There Is; The Perfect Man Of Christians, The Perfection Of The Man There Isn't; The Buddhists' Perfect Man, The Perfection Of Not Existing A Man.

If After I Die, People Want To Write My Biography, There Is Nothing Simpler. They Only Need Two Dates: The Date Of My Birth And The Date Of My Death. Between One And Another, Every Day Is Mine.