The Real Madness Probably Is Not Another

God Will Pardon Me. It Is His Trade.

He Only Profits From Praise Who Values Criticism.

I Live! Red Life Boils In My Veins, Earth Yields Beneath My Feet, In The Glow Of Love I Embrace Trees And Statues, And They Live In My Embrace. Every Woman Is To Me The Gift Of A World. I Revel In The Melody Of Her Countenance, And With A Single Glance Of My Eye I Can Enjoy More Than Others With Their Every Limb Through All Their Lives.

Whatever Tears One May Shed, In The End One Always Blows One's Nose.

What Christian Love Cannot Do Is Effected By A Common Hatred.