He In His Madness Prays For Storms,

I Was Lying, But I Wanted To Rouse Him. I Have An Inborn Urge To Contradict; My Whole Life Has Been A Mere Chain Of Sad And Futile Opposition To The Dictates Of Either Heart Or Reason. The Presence Of An Enthusiast Makes Me As Cold As A Midwinter's Day, And, I Believe, Frequent Association With A Listless Phlegmatic Would Make Me An Impassioned Dreamer.

What Is This Eternity To Me Without You? What Is The Infinity Of My Domains? Empty Ringing Words, A Spacious Temple - Without A Divinity!

And I, As I Lived, In An Alien Landwill Die A Slave And An Orphan.

When We Retire From The Conventions Of Society And Draw Close To Nature, We Involuntarily Become Children: Each Attribute Acquired By Experience Falls Away From The Soul, Which Becomes Anew Such As It Was Once And Will Surely Be Again.

Afraid Of Decision, I Buried My Finer Feelings In The Depths Of My Heart And They Died There.