It was you I thought of all the time, I gave to them the love you did not need: lavished on them a love that was not theirs.
Life is too short to be in a hurry.
Other people are quite dreadful. The only possible society is oneself.
Art finds her own perfection within, and not outside of, herself. She is not to be judged by any external standard of resemblance.
Common sense is the enemy of Romance :P:P
I like my food dry. Not sick, not even dying, dead.