"All memory can do is scream for touch."

The farther behind I leave my past, the closer I am to forging my own character.

A frenzied passion for art is a canker that devours everything else.

All true language is incomprehensible, like the chatter of a beggar's teeth.

If you tremble indignation at every injustice then you are a comrade of mine.

My passions were all gathered together like fingers that made a fist. Drive is considered aggression today; I knew it then as purpose.