Life Is Full Of Paradoxes, As Roses

Oh Salty Sea, How Much Of Your Salt Is Tears From Portugal?

Since I Wasn't Able To Leave A Succession Of Beautiful Lies, I Want To Leave The Smidgen Of Truth That The Falsehood Of Everything Lets Us Suppose We Can Tell.

Sailing Is Necessary, Living Is Not Necessary.

The Chill Of What I Won't Feel Gnaws At My Present Heart.

Everything Is Absurd.