It Is Not A Bad

The True Traveler Is He Who Goes On Foot, And Even Then, He Sits Down A Lot Of The Time.

Perhaps The Only Misplaced Curiosity Is That Which Persists In Trying To Find Out Here, On This Side Of Death, What Lies Beyond The Grave.

You Do Not Notice Changes In What Is Always Before You.

On The First Of May, With My Comrades Of The Catechism Class, I Laid Lilac, Chamomile And Rose Before The Altar Of The Virgin, And Returned Full Of Pride To Show My Blessed Posy. My Mother Laughed Her Irreverent Laugh And, Looking At My Bunch Of Flowers, Which Was Bringing The May-bug Into The Sitting-room Right Under The Lamp, She Said: Do You Suppose It Wasn't Already Blessed Before?

Voluptuaries, Consumed By Their Senses, Always Begin By Flinging Themselves With A Great Display Of Frenzy Into An Abyss. But They Survive, They Come To The Surface Again. And They Develop A Routine Of The Abyss: It's Four O Clock. At Five I Have My Abyss.