I Entered Literary Life As A Meteor,

...a Strange Art – Music – The Most Poetic And Precise Of All The Arts, Vague As A Dream And Precise As Algebra.

I Have Coveted Everything And Taken Pleasure In Nothing

Broad Daylight Does Not Encourage The Apprehension Of Horror.

I Have Seen Mad People, And I Have Known Some Who Were Quite Intelligent, Lucid, Even Clear-sighted In Every Concern Of Life, Except On One Point. They Could Speak Clearly, Readily, Profoundly On Everything; Till Their Thoughts Were Caught In The Breakers Of Their Delusions And Went To Pieces There, Were Dispersed And Swamped In That Furious And Terrible Sea Of Fogs And Squalls Which Is Called Madness.

I Told Myself 'everything Is A Being! The Shout That Passes Into The Air Is An Entity Like An Animal, Since It Is Born, Produces A Movement, And Is Again Transformed, In Order To Die. So The Fearful Mind That Believes In Incorporeal Beings Is Not Wrong. What Are They?