Theophile Gautier. Mademoiselle de Maupin (№ 296853)

In my fragile chest to get along with strewn with violets dreams of a young innocent girl and the crazy heat of drunken courtesans; my lust prowl, like lions, sharpening their claws in the darkness and looking for someone to devour; my thoughts rush about uneasily like goats balancing on the edge the most dangerous of mountain ranges; my hatred, all saturated with poison, recoil is inextricably nodes its scaly rings and is dragging far behind me on the potholed and ruts.