Love Me. Love My Umbrella.

To Discover The Mode Of Life Or Of Art Whereby My Spirit Could Express Itself In Unfettered Freedom.

What? Corpus. Body. Corpse. Good Idea The Latin. Stupifies Them First. Hospice For The Dying. They Don't Seem To Chew It; Only Swallow It Down.

It Was Cold Autumn Weather, But In Spite Of The Cold They Wandered Up And Down The Roads Of The Park For Nearly Three Hours. They Agreed To Break Off Their Intercourse; Every Bond, He Said, Is A Bond To Sorrow.

An Improper Art Aims At Exciting In The Way Of Comedy The Feeling Of Desire But The Feeling Which Is Proper To Comic Art Is The Feeling Of Joy.

Death, A Cause Of Terror To The Sinner, Is A Blessed Moment For Him Who Has Walked In The Right Path.