Life Is A Flower Of Which Love

He Sought...to Transform The Grief Which Looks Down Into The Grave By Showing It The Grief Which Looks Up To The Stars.

Humanity Is Our Common Lot. All Men Are Made Of The Same Clay. There Is No Difference, At Least Here On Earth, In The Fate Assigned To Us. We Come Of The Same Void, Inhabit The Same Flesh, Are Dissolved In The Same Ashes. But Ignorance Infecting The Human Substance Turns It Black, And That Incurable Blackness, Gaining Possession Of The Soul, Becomes Evil.

Genius Is A Promontory Jutting Out Into The Infinite.

When A Woman Is Talking To You, Listen To What She Says With Her Eyes.

Popularity - A Piece Of Faded Tinsel, That Is Out Of Date.