If We Could See Ourselves As Others

One Is And Remains A Slave As Long As One Is Not Cured Of Hoping.

Music Is The Refuge Of Souls Ulcerated By Happiness.

However Much I Have Frequented The Mystics, Deep Down I Have Always Sided With The Devil; Unable To Equal Him In Power, I Have Tried To Be Worthy Of Him, At Least, In Insolence, Acrimony, Arbitrariness And Caprice.

Trees Are Massacred, Houses Go Up — Faces, Faces Everywhere. Man Is Spreading. Man Is The Cancer Of The Earth.

The Deepest Subjective Experiences Are Also The Most Universal, Because Through Them One Reaches The Universal Source Of Life.