We Are Suffering From Too Much Sarcasm.

You Are Not Male Nor Female, But A Plan Deep-set Within The Heart Of Man.

There Never Was A War That Was Not Inward; I Must Fight Till I Have Conquered In Myself What Causes War.

One Detects Creative Power By Its Capacity To Conquer One's Detachment.

The Hands Are The Heart's Messengers.

Below The Incandescent Stars / Below The Incandescent Fruit, / The Strange Experience Of Beauty; / Its Existence Is Too Much; / It Tears One To Pieces / And Each Fresh Wave Of Consciousness / Is Poison.