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I fear those big words which make us so unhappy.
- James JoyceSatan, really, is the romantic youth of Jesus re-appearing for a moment.
Poetry even when apparently most fantastic is always a revolt against...
The artist, like the God of the creation, remains within or behind or beyond...
Love between man and man is impossible because there must not be sexual...
I gave him my best cryptic smile. He did not fall down to his feet, kiss my shoes, and promise me the world. I must be getting rusty.
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