An Artisan Without Memories, Whose

The Fact Is That Being Seductive Is An Addiction That Can Never Be Satisfied.

For You Was I Born, For You Do I Have Life, For You Will I Die, For You Am I Now Dying.

She Would Say, "someone Should Invent Something To Do With Things You Cannot Use Anymore But That You Still Cannot Throw Out.

It Was A Meditation On Life, Love, Old Age, Death: Ideas That Had Often Fluttered Around Her Head Like Nocturnal Birds But Dissolved Into A Trickle Of Feathers When She Tried To Catch Hold Of Them.

The Heart's Memory Eliminates The Bad And Magnifies The Good.