In The East Men Know Panic, But

I Go To Bed, And I Wait For Sleep As A Man Might Wait For The Executioner. I Wait For Its Coming With Dread, And My Heart Beats And My Legs Tremble, While My Whole Body Shivers Beneath The Warmth Of The Bedclothes, Until The Moment When I Suddenly Fall Asleep, As A Man Throws Himself Into A Pool Of Stagnant Water In Order To Drown. I Do Not Feel This Perfidious Sleep Coming Over Me As I Used To, But A Sleep Which Is Close To Me And Watching Me, Which Is Going To Seize Me By The Head, To Close My Eyes And Annihilate Me.

Words Dazzle And Deceive Because They Are Mimed By The Face. But Black Words On A White Page Are The Soul Laid Bare.

Killing Is Decreed By Law But Nature Loves Eternal Youth. Whatever She Does, However Unconscious And Unfeeling The Act, She Seems To Cry Out: 'quick! Quick! Quick!' And The More She Destroys, The More She Is Renewed.

Broad Daylight Does Not Encourage The Apprehension Of Horror.

The Kiss Itself Is Immortal. It Travels From Lip To Lip, Century To Century, From Age To Age. Men And Women Garner These Kisses, Offer Them To Others And Then Die In Turn.