Sexuality Is The Lyricism Of The Masses.

Life Swarms With Innocent Monsters.

So As Not To Feel The Horrible Burden Of Time That Breaks Your Back And Bends You To The Earth, Be Endlessly Drunk.

He Who Looks Through An Open Window Sees Fewer Things Than He Who Looks Through A Closed Window.

It Is At Despair At Not Being Able To Be Noble And Beautiful By Natural Means That We Have Made Up Our Faces So Strangely.

It Is The Pleasure Of Astonishing Others, And The Proud Satisfaction Of Never Being Astonished By Them.