I Hate Everything You Say, But Not

I Love You Wildly, Insanely, Infinitely.

I Come Here To Speak Poetry. It Will Always Be In The Grass. It Will Also Be Necessary To Bend Down To Hear It. It Will Always Be Too Simple To Be Discussed In Assemblies.

Gregariousness Is Always The Refuge Of Mediocrities, Whether They Swear By Soloviev Or Kant Or Marx. Only Individuals Seek The Truth, And They Shun Those Whose Sole Concern Is Not The Truth.

He Comes As A Guest To The Feast Of Existence, And Knows That What Matters Is Not How Much He Inherits But How He Behaves At The Feast, And What People Remember And Love Him For.

How Wonderful To Be Alive, He Thought. But Why Does It Always Hurt?