Tolerance - The Function Of An Extinguished

I Dream Of A Language Whose Words, Like Fists, Would Fracture Jaws.

A Sensation Must Have Fallen Very Low To Deign To Turn Into An Idea.

True Confessions Are Written With Tears Only. But My Tears Would Drown The World, As My Inner Fire Would Reduce It To Ashes.

Only One Endowed With Restless Vitality Is Susceptible To Pessimism. You Become A Pessimist-a Demonic, Elemental, Bestial Pessimist-only When Life Has Been Defeated Many Times In Its Fight Against Depression.

To Accomplish Nothing And Die Of The Strain