What Is To Come Will

The Cadence Of Suffering Has Begun. Every Evening At Dusk, My Heart Constricts Until Night Has Come.

Verrà La Morte E Avrà I Tuoi Occhi. (death Will Come And It Will Have Your Eyes.)

Artists Are The Monks Of The Bourgeois State.

We Obtain Things When We No Longer Want Them.

We Can All Do Good Deeds, But Very Few Of Us Can Think Good Thoughts.