I hate birthdays.
What is writing but an expression of my own life?
I will see this game of life out to its bitter end.
Love grows more tremendously full, swift, poignant, as the years multiply.
I arise full of eagerness and energy, knowing well what achievement lies ahead of me.
I need this wild life, this freedom.
Love of man for woman - love of woman for man. That's the nature, the meaning, the best of life itself.
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