When The Lightning Strikes One Of Us,

This Is What I Think Now: That The Natural State Of The Sentient Adult Is A Qualified Unhappiness.

I Was Perhaps An Egotist In Youth, But I Soon Found It Made Me Morbid To Think Too Much About Myself

I Don't Want To Repeat My Innocence. I Want The Pleasure Of Losing It Again.

You're The Only Girl I've Seen For A Long Time That Actually Did Look Like Something Blooming.

To Create Souls In Men, To Create Fine Happiness And Fine Despair She Must Remain Deeply Proud - Proud To Be Inviolate, Proud Also To Be Melting, To Be Passionate And Possessed.