Humanity Adores Only Those Who Cause It

Melancholy: An Appetite No Misery Satisfies.

By Virtue Of Depression, We Recall Those Misdeeds We Buried In The Depths Of Our Memory. Depression Exhumes Our Shames.

One Cannot Live Without Motives. I Have No Motives Left, And I Am Living.

The Obsession With Suicide Is Characteristic Of The Man Who Can Neither Live Nor Die, And Whose Attention Never Swerves From This Double Impossibility.

As Art Sinks Into Paralysis, Artists Multiply. This Anomaly Ceases To Be One If We Realize That Art, On Its Way To Exhaustion, Has Become Both Impossible And Easy.