But Things Worked Out. Everything Works Out.

Today Riches And Honours Have Been Lavished On Me, But One Gift Has Been Lacking, The Most Important One Of All, The Only One That Matters, The Gift Of Youth.

And Love Was Creation's Source,creation's Ruler; But All Love's Ways Are Strewn With Blossoms And Blood, Blossoms And Blood.

Rather Than Admire The Mediocre Great Men Over Whom Passersby Nudge Each Other In Awe, I Venerate The Young, Unknown Geniuses Who Die In Their Teens, Their Souls Shattered - Delicate, Phosphorescent Glowworms That One Must See To Know They Really Did Exist.

A Word Can Be Transformed Into A Coulour, Light, A Smell; It Is The Writer's Task To Use It In Such A Way That It Serves, Never Fails, Can Never Be Ignored.

The Heavy Red Roses Smoldering In The Foggy Morning, Blood-colored And Uninhibited, Made Me Greedy, And Tempted Me Powerfully To Steal One--i Asked The Prices Merely So I Could Come As Near Them As Possible.