I Was Ill Before I Fell Ill.

Beauty Is Merciless. You Do Not Look At It, It Looks At You And Does Not Forgive.

The Ultimate, Most Holy Form Of Theory Is Action.

Three Kinds Of Souls, Three Prayers: 1) I Am A Bow In Your Hands, Lord. Draw Me, Lest I Rot. 2) Do Not Overdraw Me, Lord. I Shall Break. 3) Overdraw Me, Lord, And Who Cares If I Break.

It Was Certainly Not This Mummified And Outrageously Painted Old Woman He Was Seeing Before Him, But The Entire "female Species," As It Was His Custom To Call Women. The Individual Disappeared, The Features Were Obliterated, Whether Young Or Senile, Beautiful Or Ugly - Those Were Mere Unimportant Variations. Behind Each Woman Rises The Austere, Sacred And Mysterious Face Of Aphrodite.

Let Your Youth Have Free Reign, It Won't Come Again, So Be Bold And No Repenting.