It Is The Lives We Encounter That

History, That Excitable And Unreliable Old Lady.

I Love The Night Passionately... I Love It With All My Senses: I Love To See It, I Love To Breathe It In, I Love To Open My Ears To Its Silence, I Love My Whole Body To Be Caressed By Its Blackness.

We Breathe, Sleep, Drink, Eat, Work And Then Die! The End Of Life Is Death. What Do You Long For? Love? A Few Kisses And You Will Be Powerless. Money? What For? To Gratify Your Desires. Glory? What Coems After It All? Death! Death Alone Is Certain.

We Are Accustomed To Use Our Eyes Only With The Memory Of What Other People Before Us Have Thought About The Object We Are Looking At.

One Sometimes Weeps Over One's Illusions With As Much Bitterness As Over A Death.