We Shelter An Angel Within Us. We

Living Is A Horizontal Fall.

The Reward Of Art Is Not Fame Or Success But Intoxication: That Is Why So Many Bad Artists Are Unable To Give It Up.

The Smell Of Opium Is The Least Stupid Smell In The World.

Youth Is Certain What It Rejects Before It Knows What It Will Accept.

After The Writer's Death, Reading His Journal Is Like Receiving A Long Letter.