The heart is so easily mocked, believing that the sun can rise twice or that roses bloom because we want them to.

“She was a Roman Cardinal, chaste, but for the perfect choirboy.”

“I feel in colour, strong tones that I hue down for the comfort of the pastelly …”

“The continuous narrative of existence is a lie. There is no continuous narrativ…”

“The only selfish life is a timid one.”