Self-pity Dries Up Our Sympathy For Others.

My Intentions Go One Way, My Desires Another. Thus I Feel Both Self-indulgent And Deprived.

All Anger Feels Like Righteous Anger; Sorrow Does Not Care Whether It Is Righteous Or Not.

The Beloved Is The Ultimate Fetish.

Youth Demands More Than Ordinary Life. Age Clings To It.

Dutch Painting: Daily Life Is Enough.