La Literatura Es La Manera Más Agradable

I'm Sick Of Everything, And Of The Everythingness Of Everything.

There's A Non-existent Peace In The Uncertain Quietness

Time, Which Grays Hair And Wrinkles Faces, Also Withers Violent Affections, And Much More Quickly.

To Be Great, Be Whole; Exclude Nothing. Be Whole In Everything.

I Am Tired Of Myself In Every Way. All Things, Deep Down To The Secret Of Their Roots, Are Stained By The Color Of My Weariness.