And I Would Often Wake Up At

Oil-painting Is A Developed Technique. Why Go Backwards?

The Rich Man Who Gives, Steals Twice Over. First He Steals The Money And Then The Hearts Of Men.

I Felt As If There Were Invisible Threads Connecting Us - I Felt The Invisible Strands Of Her Hair Still Winding Around Me - And Thus As She Disappeared Completely Beyond The Sea - I Still Felt It, Felt The Pain Where My Heart Was Bleeding - Because The Threads Could Not Be Severed.

I Learned Early About The Misery And Dangers Of Life, And About The Afterlife, About The External Punishment Which Awaited The Children Of Sin In Hell.

To Die Is As If One's Eyes Had Been Put Out And One Cannot See Anything Any More. Perhaps It Is Like Being Shut In A Cellar. One Is Abandoned By All. They Have Slammed The Door And Are Gone. One Does Not See Anything And Notices Only The Damp Smell Of Putrefaction.