Nobody Loves The Light Like The Blind

Foppery Is The Egotism Of Clothes.

Youth Is The Future Smiling At A Stranger, Which Is Itself.

The Tomb Is Not A Blind Alley: It Is A Thoroughfare. It Closes On The Twilight. It Opens On The Dawn.

When Two Mouths, Made Sacred By Love, Draw Near To Each Other To Create, It Is Impossible, That Above That Ineffable Kiss There Should Not Be A Thrill In The Immense Mystery Of The Stars.

During A Wise Man's Whole Life, His Destiny Holds His Philosophy In A State Of Siege.