It Seems That Everyone Has Their Own

Your Lips Are Like Sugar And Your Cheeks An Apple Your Breasts Are Paradise And Your Body A Lily. O, To Kiss The Sugar To Bite The Apple To Reveal Paradise And Open The Lily.

Symmetry Is For God, Not For Us.

Love Is Not Breathlessness; It Is Not Excitement; It Is Not The Promulgation Of Promises Of Eternal Passion. That Is Just Being “in Love”, Which Any Of Us Can Convince Ourselves We Are. Love Itself Is What Is Left Over When Being In Love Has Burned Away, And This Is Both An Art And A Fortunate Accident.

It Seems That Everyone Has Their Own Inexplicable Fear To Have Nightmares About. We Need Nightmares To Keep Ourselves Entertained, And Fend Off The Contentment That We All Fear And Abhor So Much.

God Is An Oppressor, He Is Incapable Of Human Sympathy; Behind A Smiling Face He Hides An Evil Heart.