Everyone Loathes His Own Country And Countrymen

Like All Young Men I Set Out To Be A Genius, But Mercifully Laughter Intervened.

Truth Is What Most Contradicts Itself.

Let Us Define 'man' As A Poet Perpetually Conspiring Against Himself.

I Have Been Thinking About The Girl I Met Last Night In The Mirror: Dark On The Marble-ivory White: Glossy Black Hair: Deep Suspiring Eyes In Which One's Glances Sink Because They Are Nervous, Curious, Turned To Sexual Curiosity.

A Diary Is The Last Place To Go If You Wish To Seek The Truth About A Person. Nobody Dares To Make The Final Confession To Themselves On Paper: Or At Least, Not About Love.