The Smell Of Opium Is The Least

I Have Seafoam In My Veins, I Understand The Language Of Waves.

In Paris, Everybody Wants To Be An Actor; Nobody Is Content To Be A Spectator.

There Are Too Many Souls Of Wood Not To Love Those Wooden Characters Who Do Indeed Have A Soul.

In Exiling Myself I Am Not Exiling A Monster, But A Man Whom Society Will Not Allow To Live, Since It Considers One Of The Mysterious Cogs In God's Masterpiece To Be A Mistake.

I Love Cats Because I Enjoy My Home; And Little By Little, They Become Its Visible Soul.