I Have Been No More

There's Nothing Clinically Wrong With Me, Only An Emotional Imbalance - I Pass Too Quickly From The Wildest Enthusiasm To The Blackest Despair.

My Pictures Are Made Up Of Four Or Five Colors That Collide With One Another.

In Love, The One Who Runs Away Is The Winner.

Ever Since There Have Been Men, Man Has Given Himself Over To Too Little Joy. That Alone, My Brothers, Is Our Original Sin. I Should Believe Only In A God Who Understood How To Dance.

Color Exists In Itself, Possessing Its Own Beauty.