Eventually all things fall into place. Until then$$$ laugh at the confusion$$$ live for the moments$$$ and know everything happens for a reason.

The present is the only thing that has no end.

My memories are like coins in the devil's purse: when you open it$$$ you find only dead leaves.

A man is involved in life$$$ leaves his impress on it$$$ and outside of that there is nothing.

Perhaps it's inevitable$$$ perhaps one has to choose between being nothing at all and impersonating what one is.

Death is a continuation of my life without me.

If I'm sincere today$$$ what does it matter if I regret it tomorrow?

Depression is rage spread thin.

Whoever has loved knows all that life contains of sorrow and joy.

Autumn is a melancholy and graceful andante$$$ that prepares beautifully solemn adagio of winter.