My Will Exceeds My Talents.

Youth Must Go Ahead And Prosper. These Young Painters Are All Very Talented People, But They All Paint Frescoes.

Without Anxiety And Illness I Would Have Been Like A Ship Without A Rudder.

Any Number Of Holier-than-thou Honorable Realists Walk Around In The Belief That They Have Accomplished Something, Simply Because They Tell You For The Hundredth Time That A Field Is Green And A Red-painted House Is Painted Red.

From My Rotting Body, Flowers Shall Grow And I Am In Them And That Is Eternity.

To Die Is As If One's Eyes Had Been Put Out And One Cannot See Anything Any More. Perhaps It Is Like Being Shut In A Cellar. One Is Abandoned By All. They Have Slammed The Door And Are Gone. One Does Not See Anything And Notices Only The Damp Smell Of Putrefaction.