As In An Explosion, I Would Erupt

He Realised, More Vividly Than Ever Before, That Art Had Two Constant, Two Unending Preoccupations: It Is Always Meditating Upon Death And It Is Always Thereby Creating Life.

I Have The Impression That If He Didn't Complicate His Life So Needlessly, He Would Die Of Boredom.

Failure To Love Is Almost Like Murder.

Mother Russia Is On The Move, She Can't Stand Still, She's Restless And Can't Find Rest, She's Talking And She Can't Stop.

And Why Is It, Thought Lara, That My Fate Is To See Everything And Take It All So Much To Heart?