I Keep My Hands Empty For The

Not Believing Has A Sickness Which Is Believing A Little.

When The Superficial Wearies Me, It Wearies Me So Much That I Need An Abyss In Order To Rest.

There Are Sufferings That Have Lost Their Memory And Do Not Remember Why They Are Suffering.

What Words Say Does Not Last. The Words Last. Because Words Are Always The Same, And What They Say Is Never The Same.

In A Full Heart There Is Room For Everything, And In An Empty Heart There Is Room For Nothing.