I Can't Help It, The

Become Corrupt, Corrupt, And You Will Cease To Suffer!" This Has Been The Cry Of All Cities To Man.

I Cannot Help It - In Spite Of Myself, Infinity Torments Me.

Look At The Sun! It’s Dry, It’s Dead, It Needs A Drink, It Wants Blood! And I’ll Give It Blood!

The Most Despairing Songs Are The Most Beautiful, And I Know Some Immortal Ones That Are Pure Tears.

Romanticism Is The Abuse Of Adjectives