If You Want To Know How Much

Whenever Humanity Seems Condemned To Heaviness, I Think I Should Fly Like Perseus Into A Different Space. I Don't Mean Escaping Into Dreams Or Into The Irrational. I Mean That I Have To Change My Approach, Look At The World From A Different Perspective, With A Different Logic And With Fresh Methods Of Cognition And Verification.

I Am A Prisoner Of A Gaudy And Unlivable Present, Where All Forms Of Human Society Have Reached An Extreme Of Their Cycle And There Is No Imagining What New Forms They May Assume.

Novels As Dull As Dishwater, With The Grease Of Random Sentiments Floating On Top.

Each New Clarice, Compact As A Living Body With Its Smells And Its Breath, Shows Off, Like A Gem, What Remains Of The Ancient Clarices, Fragmentary And Dead.

Melancholy Is Sadness That Has Taken On Lightness.