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  • "Nous n’avons plus d’argent pour enterrer nos morts.
    Le prêtre est là, marquant le pris des funérailles;
    Et les corps étendus, troués par les mitrailles,
    Atteendent un linceul, une croix, un remords."
    "Looking up at the stars, I know quite well
    That, for all they care, I can go to hell,
    But on earth indifference is the least
    We have to dread from man or beast.

    How should we like it were stars to burn
    With a passion for us we could not return?
    If equal affection cannot be,
    Let the more loving one be me.

    Admirer as I think I am
    Of stars that do not give a damn,
    I cannot, now I see them, say
    I missed one terribly all day.

    Were all stars to disappear or die,
    I should learn to look at an empty sky
    And feel its total dark sublime,
    Though this might take me a little time."
    Last night, ah, yesternight, betwixt her lips and mine
    There fell thy shadow, Cynara! thy breath was shed
    Upon my soul between the kisses and the wine;
    And I was desolate and sick of an old passion,
    Yea, I was desolate and bowed my head:
    I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.

    All night upon mine heart I felt her warm heart beat,
    Night-long within mine arms in love and sleep she lay;
    Surely the kisses of her bought red mouth were sweet;
    But I was desolate and sick of an old passion,
    When I awoke and found the dawn was grey:
    I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.

    I have forgot much, Cynara! gone with the wind,
    Flung roses, roses riotously with the throng,
    Dancing, to put thy pale, lost lilies out of mind,
    But I was desolate and sick of an old passion,
    Yea, all the time, because the dance was long:
    I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.

    I cried for madder music and for stronger wine,
    But when the feast is finished and the lamps expire,
    Then falls thy shadow, Cynara! the night is thine;
    And I am desolate and sick of an old passion,
    Yea, hungry for the lips of my desire:
    I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.​
    "Venus now you’ve returned again

    to battles long neglected. Please, oh please, spare me.

    I’m not prey to the power of kind

    Cynara, as once I was."

    -Horace: The Odes - Book 4
    “But would you kindly ponder this question: What would your good do if evil didn't exist, and what would the earth look like if all the shadows disappeared? After all, shadows are cast by things and people. Here is the shadow of my sword. But shadows also come from trees and living beings. Do you want to strip the earth of all trees and living things just because of your fantasy of enjoying naked light?

    You're stupid.”
    -Professor Woland, The Master and Margarita
    "Words will always retain their power. Words are the means to meaning, and for those who listen, the enunciation of truth, "

    "When people break their old selves, they embark upon a journey to find their new selves, and I find the best way to remove your lies is to make them the truth. This mass we call "The World" will keep turning, ignoring our individual desires... Say, do you know why snow is white? That's because it forgot what color it was a long time ago. Have you ever forgotten what color you are?

    Evil can arise from the best of intentions and good can arise from the evilest of intentions. Does the fact that something would have happened eventually forgive the fact that someone made it happen out of spite? And what do results gained in the wrong way leave you in the end?

    I think the truth is something covered up most of the time...." "My father was a writer. You would have like him. He used to say that artists use lies, to tell the truth while politicians used them to cover the truth up." "There is no reason a fake can't do what the real thing could, and it's possible for a fake to be more real than the real thing. Some might say the fake is of far greater value, in its deliberate attempt to be real, it’s more real than the real thing
    "It's not fair..."

    "You say that so often, I wonder what your basis for comparison is?

    Everything that you wanted I have done.

    You asked that the child be taken. I took him.

    You cowered before me. I was frightening.

    I have reordered time, I have turned the world upside down, and I have done it all for you!

    I am exhausted from living up to your expectations of me.

    ...Isn't that generous?”

    "Your eyes can be so cruel, just as I can be so cruel. Everything I've done, I've done for you. I move the stars for no one."
    "Simple things: joy, anger, sorrow, love? Think again about them
    I hope someday you will understand them
    I have cut, pasted, and spliced over and over again
    Not knowing what being alive means

    It's just the two of us no need to say anything more
    As I witness the world with my cracked eyes, everything seems to shine
    Certainty doesn't exist
    You can see me reflected in your eyes, can't you?

    The prove is probably empty of meaning; think about it
    One by one, the lies are multiplying
    I'm excited about a simple trick
    My rusty head is shaking with a daydream in which you see yourself smiling

    I don't know you yet, but I want to smile with you
    Don't worry about answers, just do what you think is right
    I love this world, a world that lacks everything
    When the mechanical song resounds in the air, everything seems laughable
    There's no past to be proud of, but isn't it beautiful to have a burning dream?

    When I cross the sky, my dreams go forward with a view to the past
    When I cross the sky, I am just beginning to bloom
    When I cross the sky, I am born to die again and again
    I will destroy the lies, and I will laugh in the future
    I love this world, a world where only you can smile
    The world I love with only a view you can give me

    As I witness the world with my cracked eyes, everything seems to shine
    Certainty doesn't exist
    You can see me reflected in your eyes, can't you?"
    "I will love you as we grow older, which has just happened, and has happened again, and happened several days ago, continuously, and then several years before that, and will continue to happen as the spinning hands of every clock and the flipping pages of every calendar mark the passage of time, except for the clocks that people have forgotten to wind and the calendars that people have forgotten to place in a highly visible area. I will love you as we find ourselves farther and farther from one another, where we once we were so close.

    I will love you until the chances of us running into one another slip from slim to zero, and until your face is fogged by distant memory, and your memory faced by distant fog, and your fog memorized by a distant face, and your distance distanced by the memorized memory of a foggy fog. I will love you no matter where you go and who you see, no matter where you avoid and who you don’t see, and no matter who sees you avoiding where you go.

    Hoping for the best, like hoping for a bat to obey your orders, almost always leads to disappointment. I must admit I miss you terribly. The world is too quiet without you nearby, but it's far too late for us; ring, hair, letters, photographs--all traces of our love will be scattered then, like an anagram... That is how I will love you even as the world goes on its wicked way.”
    “Your only problem, perhaps, is that you scream without letting yourself cry.”

    "The only artists I have ever known who are personally delightful are bad artists... Inferior poets are absolutely fascinating. The worse their rhymes the more picturesque they look. The mere fact of having published a book of second-rate sonnets makes one quite irresistable. They live the poetry that they cannot write."

    "Perhaps we don't love unreasonably because we think we have time or have to reckon with time. But what if we don't have time? Or what if time as we know it is irrelevant? Ah, if only the world were ending tomorrow. We could help each other very much"

    "She's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, hers and mine are the same."

    "I will love you forever; whatever happens. Until I die and after I die, and when I find my way out of the land of the dead, I'll drift about forever all of my atoms until I find you again"

    “I have been astonished that men could die martyrs for their religion-- I have shuddered at it, I shudder no more. I could be martyred for my religion. Love is my religion and I could die for that. I could die for you. My Creed is Love and you are its only tenet.”

    "If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more, But you know what I am."

    "Of course I'll hurt you. Of course you'll hurt me. Of course we'll hurt each other. But this is the very condition of existence. To become spring means accepting the risk of winter. To become the presence means accepting the risk of absence.

    "Sorry about the blood in your mouth, I wish it was mine."

    "One day I woke up and we no longer spoke the same language. I haven't heard from you since."

    "Out of ignorance I called you my homeland, but I had forgotten that homelands are taken away"

    "And what I really intended to say in the end remains unsaid"
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