My Love Had Grown One With My

I Love Enemies, Though Not In The Christian Way. They Amuse Me, Excite My Blood. Being Always On One’s Guard, Catching Every Glance, The Significance Of Every Word, Guessing At Intentions, Frustrating Their Plots, Pretending To Be Tricked, And Suddenly, With A Shove, Upturning The Whole Enormous And Arduously Built Edifice Of Their Cunning And Schemes—that’s What I Call Life.

Anyone Who Has Chanced Like Me To Roam Through Desolate Mountains And Studied At Length Their Fantastic Shapes And Drunk The Invigorating Air Of Their Valleys Can Understand Why I Wish To Describe And Depict These Magic Scenes For Others.

And I, As I Lived, In An Alien Landwill Die A Slave And An Orphan.

Passions Are Merely Ideas In Their Initial Stage.

Happiness Comes The Way The Wind Blows.