I was in love with the whole world and all that lived in its rainy arms.
I long for the raised voice, the howl of rage or love.
Writers really live in the mind and in hotels of the soul.
All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream.
No battle is worth fighting except the last one.
Never to suffer would never to have been blessed.
There is no exquisite beauty… without some strangeness in the proportion.
I felt that I breathed an atmosphere of sorrow.
All that we see and seem is but a dream within a dream.
Folks want to be listened to, they want to be heard.
Blessed are the blind, for they know not enough to ask why.
Slight not what's near through aiming at what's far.
Among mortals second thoughts are wisest.
Luckier than one's neighbor, but still not happy.
The wavering mind is but a base possession.
But learn that to die is a debt we must all pay.
In the land of the blind the one-eyed man is king.
It is dreadful to see actors reproducing the same image constantly.
Who knoweth if to die be but to live, and that called life by mortals be but death?
Come back. Even as a shadow, even as a dream.
The wisest men follow their own direction.
