Anyone Who Knows A Strange Fact Shares

Limited By The World, Which I Oppose, Jagged By It, I Shall Be All The More Handsome And Sparkling As The Angles Which Wound Me And Give Me Shape Are More Acute And The Jagging More Cruel.

...beauty Is The Projection Of Ugliness And By Developing Certain Monstrosities We Obtain The Purest Ornaments.

When I Beheld You, Suddenly - For Perhaps A Second - I Had The Strength To Reject Everything That Wasn't You And To Laugh At The Illusion. But My Shoulders Are Very Frail. I Was Unable To Bear The Weight Of The World's Condemnation. And I Began To Hate You When Everything About You Would Have Kindled My Love And When Love Would Have Made Men's Contempt Unbearable, And Their Contempt Would Have Made My Love Unbearable. The Fact Is, I Hate You.

In Reviewing My Life, In Tracing Its Course, I Fill My Cell With The Pleasure Of Being What For Want Of A Trifle I Failed To Be, Recapturing, So That I May Hurl Myself Into Them As Into Dark Pits, Those Moments When I Strayed Through The Trap-ridden Compartments Of A Subterranean Sky

My Heart's In My Hand, And My Hand Is Pierced, And My Hand's In The Bag, And The Bag Is Shut, And My Heart Is Caught.