We all have the republican spirit in our veins, like syphilis in our bones. We are democratized and venerealized.
Who would dare assign to art the sterile function of imitating nature?
Hypocrite reader my fellow my brother!
Where ever I am not is the place where I am myself.
We are all born marked for evil.
A precious liquid, a poison dearer than that of the Borgias - because it is made from our blood, our health, our sleep, and two-thirds of our love - we must be stingy with it.