No One Feels Another's Grief.

I Am Composing Like A God, As If It Simply Had To Be Done As It Has Been Done.

You Believe Happiness To Be Derived From The Place In Which Once You Have Been Happy, But In Truth It Is Centered In Ourselves.

I Try To Decorate My Imagination As Much As I Can.

No One Feels Another's Grief, No One Understands Another's Joy. People Imagine They Can Reach One Another. In Reality They Only Pass Each Other By.

When All Hopes Of Recognition Or Honor Have Faded Into Distant Memory, When Purity Of Heart Meets Sorrow Of Mind, When All The World Seems To Walk In Blindness And Yet A Man Works Without Wearying For That Which He Loves...only In This Moment Is Passion Truly Understood