I listened for the echo, and I heard only praise —
It is very noble hypocrisy not to talk of one's self.
...If I continued to harbour any hope for music it lay in the expectation that a musician might come who was sufficiently bold, subtle, malicious, southerly, superhealthy to confront that music and in an immortal fashion take revenge on it.
Is man God's biggest blunder, or is man's God?
Pitch-black winter nights live in my bones.
He that writeth in blood and proverbs doth not want to be read, but learnt by heart.