We kill time; time buries us.

We kill time; time buries us.

Dreams disdain fine lines and finishing touches on landscapes – they content themselves with thick but representative brushstrokes.

Por que bonita, se coxa? Por que coxa, se bonita?

Some actions are even baser than the people who commit them.

To him the stars seemed like so many musical notes affixed to the sky, just waiting for somebody to unfasten them. Someday the sky would be emptied, but by then the earth would be a constellation of musical scores

He felt that there is a loose balance of good and evil, and that the art of living consists in getting the greatest good out of the greatest evil.