Living Is Merely The Chaos Of Existence.

I Want To Make A Poem Of My Life.

Just Let Matters Slide. How Much Better To Accept Each Sweet Drop Of The Honey That Was Time, Than To Stoop To The Vulgarity Latent In Every Decision. However Grave The Matter At Hand Might Be, If One Neglected It For Long Enough, The Act Of Neglect Itself Would Begin To Affect The Situation, And Someone Else Would Emerge As An Ally. Such Was Count Ayakura's Version Of Political Theory.

For A Long Time I Had Not Approached The Forbidden Fruit Called Happiness, But It Was Now Tempting Me With A Melancholy Persistence. I Felt As Though Sonoko Were An Abyss Above Which I Stood Poised.

Yet How Strange A Thing Is The Beauty Of Music! The Brief Beauty That The Player Brings Into Being Transforms A Given Period Of Time Into Pure Continuance; It Is Certain Never To Be Repeated; Like The Existence Of Dayflies And Other Such Short-lived Creatures, Beauty Is A Perfect Abstraction And Creation Of Life Itself. Nothing Is So Similar To Life As Music.

...of All The Kinds Of Decay In This World, Decadent Purity Is The Most Malignant.