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Love is not consolation. It is light.

Now a soft kiss - Aye, by that kiss, I vow an endless bliss.

Never let go of that fiery sadness called desire.

Musical compositions can be very sad - Chopin - but you have the pleasure of this sadness. The cheap consolation is: you will be happy. The higher consolation is the pleasure and recognition of your unhappiness, the pleasure of having recognised that fate, destiny and life are such as they are and so you reach a higher form of consciousness.

I want affection and tenderness desperately, but there's something in me that prevents me from handing it out.

There's moments where I want to break down and cry, but not give up.

I foster a sorrowful conception of affection. Make no sacrifices.

Once my heart was captured, reason was shown the door, deliberately and with a sort of frantic joy. I accepted everything, I believed everything, without struggle, without suffering, without regret, without false shame. How can one blush for what one adores?

I have a taste for a kind of melancholy and for being an absolute victim of love.