Literature + Illness = Illness

We're Artists Too, But We Do A Good Job Hiding It, Don't We?

The American Mirror, Said The Voice, The Sad American Mirror Of Wealth And Poverty And Constant Useless Metamorphosis, The Mirror That Sails And Whose Sails Are Pain.

Nothing Good Ever Comes Of Love. What Comes Of Love Is Always Something Better

If I Were To Say What I Really Think I Would Be Arrested Or Shut Away In A Lunatic Asylum. Come On, I Am Sure That It Would Be The Same For Everyone.

I Steal Into Their Dreams," He Said. "i Steal Into Their Most Shameful Thoughts, I'm In Every Shiver, Every Spasm Of Their Souls, I Steal Into Their Hearts, I Scrutinize Their Most Fundamental Beliefs, I Scan Their Irrational Impulses, Their Unspeakable Emotions, I Sleep In Their Lungs During The Summer And Their Muscles During The Winter, And All Of This I Do Without The Least Effort, Without Intending To, Without Asking Or Seeking It Out, Without Constraints, Driven Only By Love And Devotion.