Every Form Of Talent Involves A Certain

By Virtue Of Depression, We Recall Those Misdeeds We Buried In The Depths Of Our Memory. Depression Exhumes Our Shames.

Each Of Us Is Born With A Share Of Purity, Predestined To Be Corrupted By Our Commerce With Mankind, By That Sin Against Solitude.

A Regret Understood By No One: The Regret To Be A Pessimist. It’s Not Easy To Be On The Wrong Foot With Life.

Man Starts Over Again Everyday, In Spite Of All He Knows, Against All He Knows.

The Desire To Die Was My One And Only Concern; To It I Have Sacrificed Everything, Even Death.