In War Personal Revenge Maintains Its Silence.

Never To Talk About Oneself Is A Very Refined Form Of Hypocrisy.

Pitch-black Winter Nights Live In My Bones.

One's Own Self Is Well Hidden From One's Own Self; Of All Mines Of Treasure, One's Own Is The Last To Be Dug Up.

Happiness: Being Able To Forget Or, To Express In A More Learned Fashion.

It Is Terrible To Die Of Thirst In The Ocean. Do You Have To Salt Your Truth So Heavily That It Does Not Even-quench Thirst Any More?