His is a poetry devoid of any poetry.

Poetry is the insistent roaring of the human soul.

And nothing holds more glorythan in dying for Love or Liberty.

I want to mark your skin with the sins of Passion.

Until the blood from my pen runs dry, I shall worship the Greek body, the Greek mind, and the Greek soul.Until my tears land upon Greek soil, I shall forever live in exile.

In the distance I hear a song - a simple song - a song of despair - a song of longing and a song of sorrow.I have forgotten the words and the rhythm, but I sing.Yes, I sing.

Who is John Galt? Bitcoin is John Galt.

Yes Ernest, it is pretty to think so.

My delusions of grandeur are steadily becoming a reality of grandeur.

Isn't it enough to be middle-aged and impeccably beautiful? Why must one be economically useful?