Style disdains comfort and is always ready to sacrifice virtue.

I love money, but will money ever love me in return?

I am kept in bondage by the moles of my beloved.

Electricity, water, gas, and steam course through the walls of my building, keeping it alive.

My mind is led astray by every faint rustle.

No one could be the way I remember my father.

I tried self-sacrifice a couple of times in my youth.