Idle youth, enslaved to everything; by being too sensitive I have wasted my life.

Love...no such thing. Whatever it is that binds families and married couples together, that's not love. That's stupidity or selfishness or fear. Love doesn't exist. Self interest exists, attachment based on personal gain exists, complacency exists. But not love. Love has to be reinvented, that’s certain.

But, truly, I have wept too much! The Dawns are heartbreaking. Every moon is atrocious and every sun bitter.

And from that time on I bathed in the Poem Of the Sea, star-infused and churned into milk, Devouring the green azures; where, entranced in pallid flotsam, A dreaming drowned man sometimes goes down.

What an old maid I'm getting to be. lacking the courage to be in love with death!

The only unbearable thing is that nothing is unbearable.

And from then on, I bathed in the Poem of the Sea, star-infused, and opalescent, devouring green azures