The Artist Vocation Is To Send Light

Admiration And Familiarity Are Strangers.

It Is High Time That We Had Lights That Are Not Incendiary Torches.

These Tears Do Me Good, They Have Watered The Parched Place; Perhaps My Heart Will Grow Again There!

We Do Not Die Of Anguish, We Live On. We Continue To Suffer. We Drink The Cup Drop By Drop.

Immodest Creature, You Do Not Want A Woman Who Will Accept Your Faults, You Want The One Who Pretends You Are Faultless - One Who Will Caress The Hand That Strikes Her And Kiss The Lips That Lie To Her.