Life Without Music Is No Life At

When A Man Is Ill His Very Goodness Is Sickly.

They Call You Heartless; But You Have A Heart And I Love You For Being Ashamed To Show It.

My Wisdom Has Long Accumulated Like A Cloud, It Becomes Stiller And Darker. So Does All Wisdom Which Shall One Day Bear Lightnings.

For The Woman, The Man Is A Means: The End Is Always The Child.

I Might Believe In The Redeemer If His Followers Looked More Redeemed.