M. C. Escher's self portrait. |
"Those who grew up in the torment bite, bites. Painfully scorched in the sad dry earth, how can I be detested for my spite when I inflict pain?" |
"Beat me, until the destruction, beat!" "Inwardly, I am hard and cold, there is no glow or fire in me, but if I am struck by fate, the sparks fly everywhere." |
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