Ink, a Drug.

“My solemn exasperation was to her the silence of love.”

“Ez a „most” az egyetlen realitás, amit ismerünk; a már-nem színes semmijét köve…”

“-Why do you think I have ceased caring for you, Lo?-Well, you haven´t kissed me…”

“Living does mean accepting the loss of one joy after another, not even joys in …”