Yet I am not writing with ordinary ink, but with red blood that drips
from my heart. All its wounds long scarred over have opened and it
throbs and hurts, and now and then a tear falls on the paper.

Author: Leopold von Sacher-Masoch

Yet I am not writing with ordinary ink, but with red blood that drips<br />from my heart. All its wounds long scarred over have opened and it<br />throbs and hurts, and now and then a tear falls on the paper. - Leopold von Sacher-Masoch


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