Evil is the radiation of the human consciousness in certain transitional positions. It is not actually the sensual world that is amere appearance; what is so is the evil of it, which, admittedly, is what constitutes the sensual world in our eyes.

This tremendous world I have inside of me. How to free myself, and this world, without tearing myself to pieces. And rather tear myself to a thousand pieces than be buried with this world within me.

May I kiss you then? On this miserable paper? I might as well open the window and kiss the night air.

How can one take delight in the world unless one flees to it for refuge?

There they lay, but not in the forgetfulness of the previous night. She was seeking and he was seeking, they raged and contorted their faces and bored their heads into each others bosom in the urgency of seeking something, and their embraces and their tossing limbs did not avail to make them forget, but only reminded them of what they sought

I can't feel a thing; All mournful petal storms are dancing inside the very private spring of my head.

Written kisses never arrive at their destination; the ghosts drink them up along the way.