When Will The Arbitrary Be Granted The

Keep Reminding Yourself That Literature Is One Of The Saddest Roads That Leads To Everything.

I Could Spend My Whole Life Prying Loose The Secrets Of The Insane. These People Are Honest To A Fault, And Their Naivety Has No Peer But My Own.

My Wish Is That You May Be Loved To The Point Of Madness.

Beauty Is Like A Train That Ceaselessly Roars Out Of The Gare De Lyon And Which I Know Will Never Leave, Which Has Not Left. It Consists Of Jolts And Shocks, Many Of Which Do Not Have Much Importance, But Which We Know Are Destined To Produce One Shock, Which Does...the Human Heart, Beautiful As A Seismograph...beauty Will Be Convulsive Or Will Not Be At All.

In The World We Live In Everything Militates In Favor Of Things That Have Not Yet Happened, Of Things That Will Never Happen Again.