I have no conscience at all -- least of all an artistic conscience. All I have is nerves.

17. Butterfly A butterfly fluttered its wings in a wind thick with the smell of seaweed. His dry lips felt the touch of the butterfly for the briefest instant, yet the wisp of wing dust still shone on his lips years later.

No matter how accomplished one might be in any branch of learning or art, one would have to be condemned to hell, if on where not endowed with th five cardinal virtues of Confucius-benevolence, justice, courtesy, wisdom and fidelity

..he understood far more deeply than anyone else the loneliness that lurked beneath his jaunty mask.

I have heard unsavory rumors about you and the umbrella-maker's daughter

A man sometimes devotes his life to a desire which he is not sure will ever be fulfilled. Those who laugh at this folly are, after all, no more than mere spectators of life.

Yes -- or rather, it's not so much that I want to die as that I'm tired of living.