Every Word Is An Adamantine Shell Which

A Slave's Soul Has No Worth, My Brothers; It Lacks Strength To Tread On This Great Earth With Gallantry And Freedom. I Pity The Poor Slaves, They're Nought But Airy Mist, A Light Breeze Scatters Them, A Fragrance Knocks Them Down; It's Only Just They Crawl On The Earth On Hands And Knees. Today I'll Write A Hymn To God And Pray For This Great Grace.

All Those Who Actually Live The Mysteries Of Life Haven't The Time To Write, And All Those Who Have The Time Don't Live Them! D'you See?

Once More There Sounded Within Me The Terrible Warning That There Is Only One Life For All Men, That There Is Only One Life For All Men, That There Is No Other And That All That Can Be Enjoyed Must Be Enjoyed Here. In Eternity No Other Chance Will Be Given To Us.

Alas For Him Who Seeks Salvation In Good Only! Balanced On God's Strong Shoulders, Good And Evil Flap Together Like Two Mighty Wings And Lift Him High.

A Magical Portal Opened Inside My Mind And Conducted Me Into An Astonishing World. [...] Before This Moment I Had Divined But Had Never Known With Such Positiveness That The World Is Extremely Large And That Suffering And Toil Are The Companions And Fellow Warriors Not Only Of Cretan, But Of Every Man. [...] That By Means Of Poetry All This Suffering And Effort Could Be Transformed Into Dream; No Matter How Much Of The Ephemeral Existed, Poetry Could Immortalize It By Turning It Into Song.