You Don't Think Before You Do Something

Perhaps The Only Misplaced Curiosity Is That Which Persists In Trying To Find Out Here, On This Side Of Death, What Lies Beyond The Grave.

To Write Is To Pour One’s Innermost Self Passionately Upon The Tempting Paper, At Such Frantic Speed That Sometimes One’s Hand Struggles And Rebels, Overdriven By The Impatient God Which Guides It - And To Find, Next Day, In Place Of The Golden Bough That Bloomed Miraculously In That Dazzling Hour, A Withered Bramble And A Stunted Flower.

Sincerity Is Not A Spontaneous Flower Nor Is Modesty Either.

Is Suffering So Very Serious? ...i'm Referring To The Kind Of Suffering A Man Inflicts On A Woman Or A Woman On A Man. It's Extremely Painful... Hardly Bearable. But I Very Much Fear That This Sort Of Pain... Is No More Worthy Of Respect Than Old Age Or Illness.

I Love My Past, I Love My Present. I Am Not Ashamed Of What I Have Had, And I Am Not Sad Because I No Longer Have It.