Life Is The Farce Which Everyone Has

The Only Unbearable Thing Is That Nothing Is Unbearable.

Your Memory And Your Senses Will Be Nourishment For Your Creativity.

He Would Say, "how Funny It Will All Seem, All You've Gone Through, When I'm Not Here Anymore, When You No Longer Feel My Arms Around Your Shoulders, Nor My Heart Beneath You, Nor This Mouth On Your Eyes, Because I Will Have To Go Away Some Day, Far Away..." And In That Instant I Could Feel Myself With Him Gone, Dizzy With Fear, Sinking Down Into The Most Horrible Blackness: Into Death.

But, Truly, I Have Wept Too Much! The Dawns Are Heartbreaking. Every Moon Is Atrocious And Every Sun Bitter.

Genius Is The Recovery Of Childhood At Will.