He Was The First To

Let Your Performance Do The Thinking.

Beauty Is In The Eye Of The Gazer.

Is There Not A Terrible Hollowness, Mockery, Want, Craving, In That Existence Which Is Given Away To Others, For Want Of Something Of Your Own To Bestow It On?

You Had No Right To Be Born; For You Make No Use Of Life. Instead Of Living For, In, And With Yourself, As A Reasonable Being Ought, You Seek Only To Fasten Your Feebleness On Some Other Person's Strength.

It Would Not Be Wicked To Love Me." "it Would To Obey You.