Beauty is not based on how attractive we are to everybody else, but how attractive we are to ourselves, for one cannot think other people think they are full of beauty unless they know they are beautiful too.

The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones
who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved,
desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who
never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn,
burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles
exploding like spiders across the stars.