When I am fascinated by something, I like to play with it.
No one is ever ordinary.
What is any of this to us? Time is endless and ours. Love and Death are only the games we play in it.
Are not all loves secretly the same? A hundred flowers sprung from a single root.
Hope is a punishable offense. The verdict is always death; one more death of the heart.
I hate the way, once you start to know someone, care about them, their behavior can distress you, even when it's unreasonable and not your fault, even if you were really trying to be careful, tactful.