I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity.
All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream.
We loved with a love that was more than love.
Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night.
I have great faith in fools – self-confidence my friends will call it.
I was never really insane except upon occasions when my heart was touched.
There is no exquisite beauty… without some strangeness in the proportion.
Believe only half of what you see and nothing that you hear.
Sleep, those little slices of death — how I loathe them.
Years of love have been forgot, In the hatred of a minute.
Never to suffer would never to have been blessed.
Words have no power to impress the mind without the exquisite horror of their reality.
All religion, my friend, is simply evolved out of fraud, fear, greed, imagination, and poetry.
If you wish to forget anything on the spot, make a note that this thing is to be remembered.
The best things in life make you sweaty.
Deep in earth my love is lying
And I must weep alone.
I wish I could write as mysterious as a cat.
I felt that I breathed an atmosphere of sorrow.
And so being young and dipped in folly I fell in love with melancholy.
Invisible things are the only realities.
And all I loved, I loved alone.
Beauty of whatever kind, in its supreme development, invariably excites the sensitive soul to tears.