A Geisha Has Studied A Man's Moods

Here Again, I Saw Life In All Its Noisy Excitement Passing Me By.

Grief Is A Most Peculiar Thing; We’re So Helpless In The Face Of It. It’s Like A Window That Will Simply Open Of Its Own Accord. The Room Grows Cold, And We Can Do Nothing But Shiver. But It Opens A Little Less Each Time, And A Little Less; And One Day We Wonder What Has Become Of It.

Finally The Homeless Eel Marked Its Territory, I Suppose, And The Doctor Lay Heavily Upon Me, Moist With Sweat.

Anyone Can Have A Good Day. The Question Is What Do You Do On A Bad Day. That's When You're Being Tested. In A Very Tangible Sense, A Bad Day Shows Your Innermost Essence More Than A Good Day.

She Paints Her Face To Hide Her Face. Her Eyes Are Deep Water. It Is Not For Geisha To Want. It Is Not For Geisha To Feel. Geisha Is An Artist Of The Floating World. She Dances, She Sings. She Entertains You, Whatever You Want. The Rest Is Shadows, The Rest Is Secret.