You Don't Remember Days, You

Writing Is A Fine Thing, Because It Combines The Two Pleasures Of Talking To Yourself And Talking To A Crowd.

To Avenge A Wrong Done To You, Is To Rob Yourself Of The Comfort Of Crying Out Against The Injustice Of It.

A Dream Is A Creation Of The Intelligence, The Creator Being Present But Not Knowing How It Will End.

Waiting Is Still An Occupation. It Is Having Nothing To Wait For That Is Terrible.

Nowadays, Suicide Is Just A Way Of Disappearing. It Is Carried Out Timidly, Quietly, And Falls Flat. It Is No Longer An Action, Only A Submission.