Sadness Is A State Of

If Only We Could Lean Over The Soul We Love And See As In A Mirror The Image We Cast!

To Understand Is Nothing, But To Be Understood-that Is The Problem And The Source Of Anguish. The Soul Throbs And Would Have The Other Know-but Can Not And Feels Isolated. Then Come Gestures, Words, Awkward Explanations And Material Symbols For Imponderable Outbursts Of Feeling-and The Soul Despairs.

We Should Enjoy This Summer, Flower By Flower, As If It Were To Be The Last One We’ll See.

Through Fear Of Resembling One Another, Through Horror Of Having To Submit, Through Uncertainty As Well, Through Skepticism And Complexity, There Is A Multitude Of Individual Little Beliefs For The Triumph Of Strange Little Individuals.

Nothing Excellent Can Be Done Without Leisure.