The Important Thing Is That

We All Love Conflagrations. When The Sky Changes Color, It Is A Dead Man's Passing.

All My Life, My Heart Has Yearned For A Thing I Cannot Name.

Over And Above The Various Prejudices I Acknowledge, The Affinities I Feel, The Attractions I Succumb To, The Events Which Occur To Me And To Me Alone- Over And Above A Sum Of Movements I Am Conscious Of Making, Of Emotions I Alone Experience- I Strive, In Relation To Other Men, To Discover The Nature, If Not The Necessity, Of My Difference From Them. Is It Not Precisely To The Degree I Become Conscious Of This Difference That I Shall Recognize What I Alone Have Been Put On This Earth To Do, What Unique Message I Alone May Bear, So That I Alone Can Answer For Its Fate?

Of All Those Arts In Which The Wise Excel, Nature's Chief Masterpiece Is Writing Well.

What One Hides Is Worth Neither More Nor Less Than What One Finds. And What One Hides From Oneself Is Worth Neither More Nor Less Than What One Allows Others To Find.