Spring is like a perhaps hand
Miracles are to come. With you I leave a remembrance of miracles: they are by somebody who can love and who shall be continually reborn, a human being.
An artist, a man, a failure, must proceed.
By the way, a gendarme assured me this is not a prison.
Humanity I love you because when you're hard up you pawn your intelligence to buy a drink.
Really unreal world, will you perhaps do the breathing for me while I am away?