In Fact Living Is Dying.

Whatever You Want To Say, There Is Only One Word To Express It, Only One Verb To Give It Movement, Only One Adjective To Qualify It.

Whether We Are Describing A King, An Assassin, A Thief, An Honest Man, A Prostitute, A Nun, A Young Girl, Or A Stallholder In A Market, It Is Always Ourselves That We Are Describing.

Great Minds That Are Healthy Are Never Considered Geniuses, While This Sublime Qualification Is Lavished On Brains That Are Often Inferior But Are Slightly Touched By Madness.

It Is The Lives We Encounter That Make Life Worth Living.

Those Men, Those Of Former Times, Had Soul And Eyes That In No Way Resemble Ours, And In Their Veins, Along With Their Blood, Flowed Something That Has Disappeared: Love And Admiration For The Beautiful.