I live in a World filled with laughter and torment. A dark filled place, where many fools come to die; spending most of my days looking for some quiet place to call my own. Knowing of only one other soul, having shared in my same world; A tenant who was known by the name, as the late and great, Vincent Van Gogh.

The greatest artist, strives in an insane mind.

Careful of weaker souls, for they envy great men and will kill them; so they too will be remembered.

Dear brother,

I feel what Pa and Ma instinctively think about me (I don’t say reasonably).
There’s a similar reluctance about taking me into the house as there would be about having a large, shaggy dog in the house. He’ll come into the room with wet paws — and then, he’s so shaggy. He’ll get in everyone’s way. And he barks so loudly.
In short — it’s a dirty animal.
Very well — but the animal has a human history and, although it’s a dog, a human soul, and one with finer feelings at that, able to feel what people think about him, which an ordinary dog can’t do.
And I, admitting that I am a sort of dog, accept them as they are.

Vincent van Gogh to his brother Theo, Nuenen, 15 December 1883

Hubris can spell the end, for even the greatest man.

Beware the quiet man, for he who does not speak, is always thinking.