I Hate Rarely, Though When I Hate,

The Dream Was Always Running Ahead Of Me. To Catch Up, To Live For A Moment In Unison With It, That Was The Miracle.

I Believe That In Judging Our Actions We Are More Severe Than Professional Judges. We Judge Not Only Our Actions, But Our Thoughts, Our Intentions, Our Secret Curses, Our Hidden Hate.

All Unlived Emotions Turn To Inanity.

To Write Is To Descend, To Excavate, To Go Underground.

The Way To Recognize A Dead Word Is That It Exudes Boredom.