The Smell Of Opium Is The Least

Inspiration Arrived As A Result Of Profound Indolence... I Awoke With A Start And Witnessed As From A Seat In A Theatre, Three Acts Of A Potentially Awesome Play.

He Has The Manner Of A Giant With The Look Of A Child, A Lazy Activeness, A Mad Wisdom, A Solitude Encompassing The World.

Love Is Mainly An Affair Of Short Spasms. If These Spasms Disappoint Us, Love Dies. It Is Very Seldom That It Weathers The Experience And Becomes Friendship.

There's No Such Thing As Love; Only Proof Of Love.

I Succeeded In Bewitching A Fair Number And In Being Intoxicated With My Mistakes.