Sexuality Is The Lyricism Of The Masses.

In Art, There Is One Thing Which Does Not Receive Sufficient Attention. The Element Which Is Left To The Human Will Is Not Nearly So Large As People Think.

Nature... Is Nothing But The Inner Voice Of Self-interest.

To Be A Great Man And A Saint To Oneself, That's The Only Important Thing.

I Am A Cemetery By The Moon Unblessed.

...and The Lamp Having At Last Resigned Itself To Death. There Was Nothing Now But Firelight In The Room, And Every Time A Flame Uttered A Gasp For Breath It Flushed Her Amber Skin With The Blood Of Its Bloom.