It's The Hour When Night Breaks Away

My Heart's In My Hand, And My Hand Is Pierced, And My Hand's In The Bag, And The Bag Is Shut, And My Heart Is Caught.

Limited By The World, Which I Oppose, Jagged By It, I Shall Be All The More Handsome And Sparkling As The Angles Which Wound Me And Give Me Shape Are More Acute And The Jagging More Cruel.

There Is A Close Relationship Between Flowers And Convicts. The Fragility And Delicacy Of The Former Are Of The Same Nature As The Brutal Insensitivity Of The Latter.

Betrayal Is Beautiful.

When We See Life, We Call It Beautiful. When We See Death, We Call It Ugly. But It Is More Beautiful Still To See Oneself Living At Great Speed, Right Up To The Moment Of Death.