With horror he perceived that, by uniting himself as he had with the dead, he had cut himself off from the living. Stripped of all earthly hope, bereft of every consolation, he was rendered as...
—Johann Ludwig
How may I hate that which I love with such intensity of passion? How should I abhor that for which my every drop of blood is boiling?
Consider too, how deep the abyss between life and death; across this, my power can build a bridge, but it can never fill up the frightful chasm.
Do Not Sell My Personal Information
Exercise your consumer rights by contacting us below Privacy Policy
[email protected]
Personalized advertisements
Turning this off will opt you out of personalized advertisements delivered from Google on this website.